Laws of Attraction
by grayautumnsky13
Summary: When Mal murders her husband, she turns to Regina, a defense attorney and former lover for help.
1. Chapter 1

Regina steps into her office and immediately stops, rooted in place as Mal rises up from one of the chairs opposite her desk.

She's wearing a knee-length gray skirt and a wine-colored blouse, and draped over her arm is a smart little jacket that matches her skirt. A smile pulls onto her lips as she turns to face Regina–and for a moment, it's impossible not to get lost in her clear blue eyes.

"Mal," Regina breathes out, a slow smile edging onto her lip. "What a surprise."

"Miss me?" Mal asks almost shyly as she shifts uncomfortably. "It's… been awhile."

"It has," Regina says, nodding as she closes the door and draws in a deep breath. "It's been over a decade."

"Has it?" Mal asks, her voice suddenly shaky. "I hadn't realized. It's funny how time just… gets away from us."

For a moment, Regina doesn't reply. Instead she comes into the office and rounds her desk. It gives her a second to think and second to get over the shock–and when she sits down, she can't help but notice the way Mal's hands are trembling beneath her jacket. She looks up at her and finds her eyes are teary–and though she's smiling she looks absolutely terrified.

"Why are you here, Mal?" Regina asks, as she sits down at behind her desk. "Something tells me this isn't a social call."

"No," Mal says as she sinks back into the chair in front of Regina's desk. "I… I'm here because… I…" Mal's eyes close and she draws in a breath. "I murdered Stefan last week and…" Her eyes open as she exhales, and smiles as tears spill over her eyes. "I need a lawyer."

Regina's eyes widen. "You… _murdered_ him." Mal's jaw again begins to quiver as she nods. "You murdered your husband and now you need a lawyer."

Mal nods. "That's… about the size of it."

Drawing in a breath, Regina leans back in her chair–and folds her arms. "What did he do?"

"What?"

"What did he do?" Regina asks again. "He was always a jackass. He had to have done something to–" She stops. "I'm sure you had a reason, or…"

Mal nods. "It wasn't just one thing," she says in a small voice. "It was… a lot of little things, over a very long period of time."

She can barely make eye-contact as she recounts the events of the previous night. She tells her about how she and Stefan had gone to a charity auction, and how she'd spent the evening doing what she thought he wanted her to do, making small talk with his friends' wives and under bidding on items so that he could look charitable without having to actually pay for anything. But somehow, something had gone awry. He was quiet the whole ride home and as soon as they got into the house, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her up the stairs shoving her hard her into their bedroom–and she described the hard angry way her as he yelled. He told her what a disappointment she was, and what an embarrassment she was to him–and when she didn't know exactly what it was that she'd done, he only grew angrier. He'd reached for her, grabbing her by the hair and pulling back her head as he accused her of flirting with one of the other wives–and while she'd been doing exactly that, she'd lied and denied when she did, he shoved her away. She hit her head on the corner of the nightstand, and when she looked up, she recognized the look in his eye and she knew what was coming.

The week before, she'd been shopping and she had to go to a store she normally didn't frequent–and next to it, was a little pawn shop. She'd used a fake name and she'd purchased a little handgun, and when she got home that night, she tucked into the drawer on her nightstand beneath a few old magazines.

She'd held her breath as she reached behind herself, reaching into the drawer.

"I… I didn't mean to shoot him," Mal says, shaking her head as tears trail down her cheeks. "I just wanted him to stop. I thought I'd scare him, or–" She sucks in a breath as her tears fall more freely. "I just wanted him to stop."

Regina's chest tighten again and she feels her own tears brimming in her eyes. She rises from her desk and pulls a handkerchief from her top draw, and then rounds the desk and sits on the edge. "Then what happened?" She asks, holding out the handkerchief and smiling sadly as Mal takes her and curls her fingers around it. "What happened after you reached for the gun?"

"He laughed," she says as her eyes press closed. "He laughed at me and–" She shakes her head. "Regina, I just wanted him to stop."

"So you shot him."

She nods. "I didn't even aim it. I just squeezed the trigger and then the next thing I knew, he was on the floor."

"Was anyone there?" Mal shakes her head. "Maybe a housekeeper or–"

"No," Mal cuts in. "They don't live at the house with us. They come every morning and leave after dinner." She blinks up at Regina and shrugs. "I assume it was one of the servants who found him and… and called."

"Where did you go, um… after?"

"I… stayed for a little while," Mal says as she looks down at the handkerchief. "I didn't know what to do, so I stayed and then I took a shower and I got dressed and… I went for a drive." When she looks up, her eyes are pleading. "Regina, I don't know what to do. I don't know–"

"Have you been questioned?"

She nods. "The day after it happened."

"And what happened after that."

A little grin tries to tug on to her lips, but it doesn't quite form. "My parents' lawyer swooped in and saved the day." She swallows and looks back to Regina. "I'm not supposed to leave town."

"Did you confess?"

"No," she says. "He wouldn't let me say anything."

"That's good," Regina says, drawing in a breath and slowly exhaling it as she look at Mal–the beautiful and spirited woman she'd loved so much, and it hurts to see her this way, looking so lost and broken. "And… why are you here? Why not stick with your parents' lawyer."

"I don't trust him," she says simply. "And I wanted…I wanted you."

Regina presses her eyes closed and draws in a breath, feeling herself losing the battle against her tears. Despite all the time that's passed, her feeling for her are strong as ever and it feels like no time at all has passed, when, in fact, a lifetime's passed.

Her eyes open and she tries to smile–but it's hard to put on a brave face with Mal looking at her the way that she is–so broken and afraid, helpless and worn down. "Mal, I… I don't understand," she says as she reaches out and takes her hand. "Why did you marry him? Why did–"

Mal looks back down and shrugs her shoulders. "I didn't have a choice. I had–"

"You didn't have to. You had–"

"Options?" Mal asks as her eyes shift back to Regina's. "You and I both know that's not true. You and Robin were… starting your life, and what we had couldn't continue. I'd have been in the way and I could bear to watch the the two of you tire of me."

It hurts to hear her say that–it hurts almost as much as it did when they saw her picture on the front page of the newspaper, announcing her marriage to Stefan. For ten years, she's wondered–for ten years, she's thought about what it'd be like to finally have a chance to ask her why she left, why she never said goodbye and why she vanished from their lives–but it hardly seems to matter now.

"Well, that's debatable, but… that's another conversation for another time."

"Right. I… I suppose you're right," Mal says. "If there is another time."

"Mal…"

"I… I killed my husband, Regina. I could go to prison. I could–"

"Well, that's why you're here, isn't it?" Regina asks as she reaches out and takes Mal's hand. "Because you're

going to go to prison." She grins a little as she squeezes her hand. "I'd never let that happen, and you know it."

"So, you'll help me?"

Regina smiles and nods. "Of course I'll help you." She sighs a bit as she pulls back her hand. "Okay, so… I am going to have my assistant make us some coffee and then… we'll get to work." Her chest tightens at the loss of contact. "Do you still like it with cinnamon and sugar?"

Mal nods, and in spite of everything, a smile tugs onto her lips–and this one shines through her eyes. "You remembered," she says, seeming genuinely surprised. "I can't believe you remembered."

"I remember it all," Regina replies, offering a soft smile and a wink before turning to the door.

She pulls the door closed–and feels a rush of emotion.

Tears flood her eyes and she presses them closed in an effort to stop them from falling, and she smoothes her hands over her skirt, breathing steadily as she tries to compose herself–but no matter matter how hard she tries, she can't seem to stop her tears.

"Are you alright Ms. Mills?" Belle asks, risking up from her desk. "Can I get you–"

Regina looks up and bats her hands over her eyes. "Some coffee," she cuts in, forcing a smile. "And if you can find some, could you put a little cinnamon in one?"

Belle nods. "We have it from when you brought Henry and Roland in last winter. They had it in their cocoa."

"Oh, that's right…"

"Anything else?"

"Cream," she replies, nodding. "A lot of cream. Or milk. Whichever we have." She grins. "Pour it until it starts to make clouds in the coffee."

"Clouds. Got it," Belle says as a grin pulls onto Belle's lips. "Is that all?"

"I need you to start looking up any information you can on Stefan Perrault. If he had even so much as gave someone a bloody nose in a school yard fight, I want to know about it."

Belle nods and Regina watches as she disappears around the corner–and then, drawing in a breath, she goes back into her office. For a moment, she just stands there, watching as Mal fidgets with the button on her sleeve.

"You still do that."

Mal blinks and looks up at her, then her eyes cast down to her wrist. "A nervous habit."

Regina nods as she crosses the office and sits back down beside her–and then, taking a breath, she reaches for her hand, pulling it away from the button and giving it a tight squeeze.

"I'm not going to let you go to prison, Mal. I won't."

"You don't–"

"I do know," Regina cuts in, feigning confidence as she gives her hand another squeeze. "I'm going to get you off and then–" Mal blinks and bites down on her lip and then a little snicker escapes her–and then, a moment later, she's laughing out. Regina's eyes sink closed and she shakes her head, laughing as her cheeks flush. "It's good to hear you laugh," she says once their laughter begins to fade and their hands settle in her lap.

"I've missed you so much, Regina–more than I can even say."

"I've missed you, too."

"And how's Robin? I read in the papers that he's an Assistant District Attorney now."

She nods. "He's doing well–and yes, he actually just started this week. I'm happy for him–this is what he wanted–but I'm going to miss having him around here."

"I'll bet," Mal murmurs. "And… you have children now… two boys, is it?"

"Yes, Henry and Roland," Regina tells her, smiling. "They're at summer camp and I am… trying not to take offense that they haven't written me yet." She laughs softly and shakes her head. "It's only been two weeks, and I'm sure they're having the times of their lives."

Mal nods, but before either of them can say any more, Belle knocks lightly a the door and then enters, carrying a tray–and Mal tries to pull her hand away, but Regina holds it tighter. "Two coffees," Belle announces, as she sets down tray on the little table in front of the couch. "One black and one with sugar, cinnamon, and just enough milk to make clouds."

Regina's eyes slide to Mal, watching as her lips part in surprise as she accepts the coffee.

"And, even though you didn't ask for them, we still had some scones from yesterday afternoon."

"Thank you, Belle."

"Yes," Mal murmurs. "Thank you." They watch her go and wait until the door closes, and Mal looks down at their hands. "You… should have let me pull away."

"No," she says easily, shaking her head. "We're not doing anything wrong. This is perfectly innocent and–" She shrugs. "I don't care."

"Regina…"

"You came here for help," she says, letting her voice rise over Mal's. "So let me help… and not just with the legal end of things. Let me help _you_." Leaning over she reaches into the cabinet next to the couch, pulling out a tape recorder and setting it down next to their coffee. "Now, I want you to take me through it again. Don't leave anything out. I'll ask you questions, but feel free to elaborate, okay?"

Mal nods and her eyes shift to the recorder. "And… who will hear that tape?"

"Just me," she assures her, squeezing her hand and rubbing her thumb gently over her wrist. "I promise, and… you really should try one of those scones. They're very good."

Smiling gently, Mal nods and reaches for the scone–and then, after a couple of bites, she starts at the beginning of the story, retelling it and answering questions about it as they arise. The questions get deep and personal and by the time Regina reaches across the table to turn off the recorder, they're both in tears–and still holding hands.

"I should be going," Mal says, slowly pulling back her hand. "I've taken up your whole day." Regina blinks as she turns to the clock, realizing that it's nearly three in the afternoon. "I'm sure you had other–"

"No," Regina cuts in. "Nothing that's more important than this."

"That's sweet of you to say–and thank you for–"

"You don't have to thank me," Regina says as a little grin twists onto her lips. "Not until we've won anyway." She takes a breath–in spite of spending the whole day together, she's not quite ready to let her go. "Where are you staying? Do you want–"

"One of my family's hotels. I've got a suite and room service." She shrugs her shoulders. "What more could I ask for?"

"You could stay with us."

"No, I couldn't. I… just couldn't."

Regina nods–she doesn't like it, but she understands. "And you know how to reach me?"

"I have your office number."

"I'd rather you have my home number," she says, moving to her desk and fishing out a scrap of paper and a pen. "Here," she murmurs. "We've got a private number, not a shared one. So, no one will listen in or–" She stops. "Are you sure you won't come home with me? I can make you dinner and–"

"I'm sure," Mal nods, taking a few steps in and taking the phone number–and then, she reaches into her purse and pulls out a business card bearing the logo of her family's hotel chain. "If… something change or–"

"Absolutely," Regina nods. "But nothing's going to change."

"Thank you."

Regina nods and watches as Mal goes–and there's something unsettling about it, but she dismisses it. Rounding her desk she moves back to the couch, putting the coffee cup and the plate scones sat on back on the tray and then, she moves to eject the tape–but instead of doing that she rewinds it, and listens to it again and again, memorizing the details.

 _Regina blinks as she holds her beer. She doesn't mean to stare, but she can't help it._

 _She's just so beautiful._

 _Swallowing hard, she looks around, noting that Robin is otherwise distracted–and she bites down on her lip. She's not sure how he would feel if he saw her blatantly checking out someone else, much less a woman, but she figures that what he doesn't know won't hurt him–a the rest, will be a conversation for another time–and there's nothing wrong with looking, as long as she doesn't touch._

 _A little grin edges onto her lips as she lets her gaze linger._

 _Her blonde hair is pulled back into a braid that falls over her shoulders and her lips are full and red. Her blue eyes sparkle and when she laughs, her whole face lights up. She bites down harder on her lip, and once again, her eyes slide back to Robin who's still consumed in conversation. Her eyes shift back to the blonde, taking in the thin white blouse decorate with tiny black polka dots and the tight lime green pedal pushers she's wearing–pedal pushers that hug her hips and thighs that show off her slim physique and leave just enough to the imagination._

 _She's tall, she realizes, as her eyes travel down her legs, finally stopping at the little black flats she wear._

 _And then, their eyes meet–and the next thing she knows, she's excusing herself from her conversation and walking toward her._

 _Regina feels her heartbeat quicken and a little wave of guilt washes over her as her eyes slide to Robin, and she reminds herself there's no harm in talking._

 _"Hi, I'm Millicent," the blonde says, extending her hand and smiling warmly. "But, everyone calls me Mal."_

 _Regina blinks, and laughs a bit nervously as their hands touch and she feels a spark. "I… I didn't quite expect that."_

 _"For Mal to be a nickname for Millicent?" She grins. "It's not–unless you're my parents. My mother's name is Mildred, but everyone either calls her Millie or Mil, and," she pauses and her eyes roll, "so I became Mal, and I'm really just grateful that they didn't call me Mitsy or Muffy or something equally insufferable."_

 _"Fair enough," Regina says as their hands fall away from each other. "I'm Regina."_

 _"It's nice to meet you." Her eyes narrow. "I haven't seen you around much–"_

 _"Oh, I'm a first-year student, so I was taking–"_

 _"I meant at the parties," Mal cuts in, waving her hand and laughing. "I don't actually go here, I'm just… here for the fun of it."_

 _"Oh… well, like I said, I'm a first year student and law school's proven to be quite overwhelming. It's taken me awhile to find my groove."_

 _"But you survived."_

 _Regina grins. "I did, even if it was just barely."_

 _"Well, here's to that," Mal says, laughing softly as she taps the edge of her cup to Regina's drink. "That's worth drinking–"_

 _"Hey," Robin says, as his arm slides against the small of her back "I'm finally freed. I thought Graham would never…" His voice trails off as he suddenly notices Mal. "Oh, I'm sorry," he says, extending his hand to her. "I'm Robin."_

 _"He's my boyfriend."_

 _"Oh," Mal breathes out. "I thought…" She stops and shakes her head. "It's nice to meet you," she says, shaking Robin's hand. "Are you a first-year student, too?"_

 _They fall into an easy conversation about classes and coursework and professors, and in spite of not going to school there, it's incredible just how much Mal knows about the program. From there they talk about the campus itself–favorite study nooks and the place they like to go when they need a break from the stress. Mal tells them about a little bookstore tucked away just off the campus that has oversized armchairs and a little cat named Dewey–and Regina aww's when Mal confirms he's named for the Dewey Decimal System._

 _The conversation turns to literature–and Mal and Robin spend the better part of an hour discussing Walt Whitman, Robert Frost and Alfred Lord Tennyson, and other poets who write about nature. Regina sits back and listens, grinning at the way they get on–and when a soft yawn escapes her, she looks to the clock mounted on the wall and realizes the party has dwindled down to just a few._

 _"I think we're the last of the guests," she murmurs, watching as Jefferson, a third-year law student who'd thrown the party, gathering half-empty cans and throwing away paper plates. "And though they haven't said anything–"_

 _"Oh," Mal breathes out. "I'm sure he'd liked to get on to bed."_

 _"Is it really that late?" Robin blinks, looking to the clock as his brow arches. "I can't believe the way time's gotten away."_

 _"I know," Mal says, a soft grin drawing onto her lips–and for a moment, she just stares at them, her eyes narrowing as if she wants to say something, but not quite sure if she should. "We ought to do this again," she says, nodding decisively. "Over coffee."_

 _Regina feels her cheeks flush and she nods–but it's Robin who agrees. "At Granny's," he decides. "Do you know it?"_

 _"I practically live there," Mal teases. "If you ask her nicely, she'll splash a little kahlua in your coffee."_

 _Regina laughs. "Robin and I have an apartment above her cafe."_

 _"You live up there?" Mal asks, her eyes widen as she looks between them. "I've always won–" She stops and looks past him. "Well, perhaps that's a story for another time. Jefferson's eyeing us."_

 _"Well, it is nearly three…"_

 _Mal shrugs. "Well when you throw a party, you should expect this sort of thing." They all rise from their seats and gather their things, and on their way out, Mal gives a little wave to Jefferson and laughs–and Regina feels her heart flutter as she turns to them as soon as they step out onto the stoop. "What are you two doing tomorrow afternoon?"_

 _"Oh, I…"_

 _"Nothing," Robin says, looking to Regina. "That I'm aware of."_

 _"Now that exams are done, I think we're free until the semester starts."_

 _"Fantastic," she says, shivering a little as the wind picks up. "I'll see the two of you, then–assuming you don't freeze to death."_

 _"Oh," Regina murmurs, rolling her eyes. "I left my coat in the car."_

 _"We're just parked behind the house," Robin tells her. "Can we give you a lift to–"_

 _"Oh, no," she says, shaking her head. "I'm just around the block."_

 _"You're sure. It's cold and–"_

 _"And unlike someone," she says, winking at Regina. "I'm dressed appropriately for the cold."_

 _Biting down on her lip, Regina's eyes roll, but again, her heart flutters as Mal waves and takes a few steps back. "I'll see you two tomorrow, then, at–" She tips her head to the side. "We never set a time."_

 _"How about one?" Robin suggests. "We can have coffee and sandwiches."_

 _Mal nods–and when she smiles, even in the dark, Regina can see her eyes sparkling with excitement. "It's a date, then," she calls out before turning her back to them as she hurries toward her car–and then, Robin drapes his coat over her shoulders and takes her by the hand, leading her in the opposite direction._

She's still distracted when she gets home, her thoughts consumed with Mal and the story she told–and every detail seemed to lead to more questions. She asked some, but kept others to herself–there was just so much she still wanted to know. She kept things limited to Stefan and the murder, things she could potentially use to build her defense, and she held back from asking more personal things, realizing those questions should be saved for another time when Mal was feeling less overwhelmed.

And of course, it wasn't lost on her that Mal had only come back into her life because she needed a lawyer–this wasn't personal, and though it was her instinct to latch and hold her close and this time, she'd be sure to never let her go. But she didn't know what Mal wanted or how she felt and to bring it up now would be unfair–and she didn't want to give her the impression that there strings attached to the legal assistance she could give her.

But seeing her again–no matter the reason–had reopened wounds she'd thought healed long ago and made her feel things she'd all but forgotten. And she couldn't help but wonder…

She's snapped back into the present when she hears the latch on the front door, and then footsteps coming near–and her heart beats a little faster, realizing she's going to have to tell him.

When Mal left, it hit him hard. She was the first person that he'd lost–the first person to suddenly disappear from his life–and he wasn't sure how to handle it, and it'd taken him so long to feel normal again, for even the happy moments not to be tarnished by her absence from them.

"Hey you," she breathes out, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. "How was your day?"

"Pretty fantastic, actually," he says, chuckling softly as he loosens his tie and then leans in for a proper kiss. "Gold gave me my first case as an ADA," he tells her, taking a step back as he grins. "And apparently it's a slam dunk."

She grins a little an her eyes roll. "Nothing like the thrill of having a win just handed to you."

"Well, it's just something to get my feet wet," he says as he moves to the oven and bends to see what's inside. "I'm not used to being on this side of the courtroom, you know."

"I'm well aware," she tells him, with a wistful little sigh. "And not just because of the empty office next to mine."

"You're not still mad–"

"I was never mad," she says as he rises back up and leans against the counter. "I was just… surprised. You've never struck me as the prosecuting type." Robin shrugs and it looks like he's going to give her the same defense he's given her time and time again, but she sighs and shakes her head–she's already heard it and they have more important things to talk about it. "So, tell me about this case," she begins, turning to the refrigerator and grabbing a jar of mayonnaise and a bag of vegetables left over from their weekend trip to the Farmers Market. "Then, I'll tell you about my day," she says, drawing in a breath as she hands him the bag of vegetables. "Something tells me you'll need to be sitting down."

"Hmm?"

"Nothing," she murmurs. "Start chopping." He nods as she reaches for a container of leftover chicken. "What are we having tonight, anyway?"

"Chicken salad," she answers as she pulls a measuring cup from the drawer, her thoughts still focused on Mal. "There are rolls in the oven if you want to make it a sandwich or… something."

Robin shrugs. "At least it's not another creamy casserole."

"Don't worry," she murmurs as she looks over at him and a little grin. "I've got something called Raspberry Foam Salad for dessert."

"It's jello, isn't it?"

"It is," she says in a very matter-of-fact tone. "If you wanted to marry Betty Crocker, you should have married someone else."

At that, he rolls his eyes and reaches across the counter to pull a knife from the block, and when he does, he presses a kiss to her cheek. "Never."

"So, the case…" she says, watching as he pulls the vegetables from the bag and lines them up on the cutting board. "Tell me about it."

"Oh, right," he murmurs as he reaches first for the stalks of celery. "Well, apparently, last week some crazy rich lady shot her husband in the chest."

Regina's eyes widen as she looks to him. "What?"

"I haven't looked through the notes just yet, but according to Gold, she's the only suspect, and according to the neighbors, they got into the quite the scuffle the night before, and according to his brother, she was a shameless flirt and had been cheating for years. The real kicker is the week before, she bought a gun." He chuckles softly and shrugs. "She didn't even use a false–"

"Robin, no," she cuts in, her voice piquing with panic as her heart beats faster. "You can't take that case."

His brow creases as he chops the celery. "Why not? It's an easy–" He pauses and a little grin edges onto his lips and his eyes glitter with realization and excitement. "Are you representing this woman?"

Swallowing hard, she nods. "I am."

"This might be fun, you and me being on op–"

"It's Mal."

His smile fades instantly and the knife in his hand falls to the cutting board. "What?"

"Mal," she says again. "She…" She takes a breath, suddenly realizing that she can't share the whole story with him, that it'd be putting him in an uncomfortable situation–and possibly putting Mal in a more dangerous one. "She was accused of murdering Stefan."

"Oh, god…" He lets out a long breath and turns, leaning back against the counter. "How do you know?"

"When I got to work this morning, she was there."

His eyes widen a little. "You… saw her?"

Regina nods. "She… needed a lawyer, obviously and–"

"And she went to you."

"Yeah," she says, nodding meekly. "Robin, you… you can't take this case. You can't be the one to prosecute her." His jaw tightens and his head falls back–and again, she feels her heart beating faster. "Robin, you realize that, right. You realize that you can't–"

"I already accepted it."

"Then un-accept it."

He blinks. "Regina…"

"Robin, this is Mal we're talking about."

"I know that," he says quietly as his eyes press closed. "But I can't just walk into Gold's office and say…" He turns his head and looks at her, his eyes wide and incredulous. "What would I even say, Regina?"

Her jaw tightens and her eyes narrow–and she can hardly believe that he's questioning this. "You tell him that you reviewed the file and you can't take the case. It's a conflict of interest."

"A conflict of interest…"

"Yes, given your history with her–"

"My history," he cuts in, scoffing as he shakes his head. "You want me to walk into my new boss's office and tell him that I'm sorry, but I can't take the very first case he's assigned to me because the woman my wife and I used to fuck in college–"

"Excuse me?" She cuts in, her jaw tightening as she looks to him with wide eyes. "The woman we _used to fuck_?"

Robin grimaces. "I didn't mean–"

"But that's what you said."

"Regina," he sighs. "You know that I–"

"Do I?" She asks, her voice rising louder than before. "Because your first instinct was to describe her as a woman you and I used to fuck." She shakes her head and her jaw tightens again. "You and I both know she was a hell of a lot more than that."

"Of course she–" He stops and draws in a breath. "I didn't mean it like that. I didn't mean–"

"But it's what you said," she says again. "And that's telling."

"I loved her as much as you did and–"

"Then how can you even consider taking this case?" She shakes her head and she feels her eyes filling with tears, as she thinks of Mal sitting beside her in her office, looking so scared as she described what was obviously the culmination of years of abuse–and it made her heart ache. "How could you even consider being the person who sends her to prison, especially after… everything."

"Regina," he says, calmer this time as he release a breath. "I haven't had time to even process–"

"You need time to _process_ this?" She asks, her brows arching. "Robin, this is _Mal_ we're talking about, not… some random person we used to know. She loved you and you loved her, and now you need to _process_ whether or not you can prosecute her? Whether or not you could be the person to potentially send her to prison for something you damn well know was–" She stops, her eyes sinking shut momentarily as she collects her thoughts, not wanting to say to much. "There's another side to that for you? Something you have to consider?"

He doesn't respond, and she can tell that this is hard for him. Just by looking at him, she can tell that he's reeling and that his mind is spinning with memories.

Getting over Mal wasn't something that ever happened for either of them, and the only way he'd been able to move on was by shutting down a little piece of himself–a part of his heart that was separated from the rest and kept locked away, just for her. He didn't talk about her, and when he reminisced about the long years they'd spent in that tiny apartment during law school, she was often absent from the stories–but she was there, she was always there.

But she was too angry to really consider that, to stand there and talk through this–because it hurt too much and she was afraid of what she might say, of what she might reveal.

"Look," she murmurs, drawing in and releasing a breath. "I have a lot of work to do. I only came home to eat and… and suddenly I'm not very hungry, so I'm going to go back to my office and…"

"Regina, what are you going to–"

"I don't owe you any more of an explanation," she says simply as she pulls the apron away from her waist. "Don't wait up. I'll be late."

He sighs as she tosses the apron away and pushes out of the kitchen, and when she looks back at him as she gathers her things, she can tell that he's lost in thoughts, and she can tell that he's thinking of Mal–for the first time in years, he's thinking of her and remembering her, and she hopes that by the time she gets home, he's remembered enough to bring him to his senses.

 _He's nervous._

 _He shouldn't be nervous._

 _He hasn't been nervous about meeting a girl for coffee since he met Regina for a cup of coffee at the start of exam week during their junior year of undergrad–and that was because she was_ Regina _, and by the time they'd sat down together over steaming cups of coffee, he was already convinced that she was the girl he wanted to marry._

 _But, he shouldn't be nervous about this–after all, it wasn't a date. It was just coffee with a new friend–coffee with his fiancee and their new friend, and he wasn't even sure he could call Mal that, after only spending one evening in her company._

 _They'd met the night before at a party and by the night, he was feeling smitten–and then, he was feeling guilty._

 _The three of them had settled on one of the couches at Jefferson's and talked for hours. Regina was curled into his side with her feet tucked under herself and Mal was on the opposite side, bright eyed and curious, and most of the reason the conversation kept going. She asked them the sorts of questions that led to long answers and she told them her own stories, making her own life seem so fascinating that it only led to more questions, catching them in a cycle–and by the end of the night, it seemed they'd known her for all their lives._

 _It was funny the way they just sort of fit together, how easy it was to be in their company–and it wasn't lost on him that the last time he'd felt this way, it'd been with Regina._

 _"Are you about ready?" Regina asks, smoothing her hands over her skirt and checking to ensure the pin in her hair was secure. "It'd be embarrassing if we were late, consider we live right upstairs and she's coming from–" Regina stops and her head cocks. "Where did she say she was from?"_

 _"I… don't think she did," he says slowly, not wanting to admit he remembered every detail of their conversation with Mal and she most certainly didn't mention it. And then a smile twists onto his lips as Regina looks to the mirror, examping her makeup. "Come on," he says, reaching for her hand. "You look beautiful, and you're right–it would be embarrassing for us to be late."_

 _Regina laughs and lets him pull her away from the mirror, and together they head down the stairs–and perched at one of the high-top tables is Mal, her long fingers curled around a porcelain mug as she stares out the window and the sunlight shines onto her. And for a moment, he can't peel his eyes away–she's just too stunning._

 _"Since Mal's already ordered," Robin says, clearing his throat as he looks to Regina. "Why don't you go and join her, and I'll order us a couple of cups."_

 _She nods and leaves him at the counter and when Mal turns to face her, her smile is bright and seems to radiate warmth–and then, Regina's cheeks flush a bit and she bites down on her slip as she slides onto a chair across from her, and for an all too brief moment, it looks like she's flirting._

 _Granny comes up at takes his order and as she pours their coffee, his eyes slide to Regina and he watches as she laughs at something Mal's said–and he realize that it doesn't_ look _like she's flirting, she_ is _flirting, and for some reason, the thought of that makes him smile._

 _"I was just telling Regina," Mal says as he joins them. "I've been trying to figure out who stole the apartment above this pace away from me for ages now."_

 _"Oh?" He asks, taking a quick sip of his coffee. "You were interested in it?"_

 _"I was," she says. "I wanted it as a studio, and a place to stay when I'm either too tired or too drunk to drive myself home." A smile curls onto her lips. "But the two of you beat me to it."_

 _"Well, if you ever need to crash somewhere, our couch is pretty comfortable."_

 _Regina nods. "Do you paint?"_

 _"Hmm?"_

 _"You said you wanted it for a studio."_

 _"Oh," Mal murmurs. "No, I don't paint. I am a photographer," she tells him, and then she laughs shyly. "Well, an amateur one, at least."_

 _Regina leans forward, placing her elbows onto the table as her hands cup around her coffee. "What do you take pictures of?" she asks, as Robin eyes her–and grins._

 _"All sorts of things," she answers with a shrug. "Scenery is my favorite though–trees, mountains, lakes, that sort of thing." She bites down at her lip. "Not that I ever do much with the pictures, but it keeps me entertained."_

 _"What do you do with them?" Regina wants to know. "I'm sure you have tons."_

 _"Tons is an understatement," Mal says. "But I don't really do much with them, other than hoard them, that is."_

 _Regina blinks and takes a sip of her coffee–and there's something that sad that settles in her eyes._

 _"Did you ever go to school for it? I'm sure there are tons of programs that–"_

 _"No," she cuts in, looking to him and laughing as her smile fades. "Girls like me don't go to school. We get married." It's only then that he realizes the ring on her finger–and he can't quite describe it, but he feels a sort of disappointment at its presence. "I'm an only child and to my father's great disappointment, I'm a girl, and he needs someone to pass on the family business to."_

 _"And it can't be you? Robin asks. "I'm sure–"_

 _"No," she cuts in, again offering him that sad smile. "He'd never allow that, and the whole business has been all but promised to his associates son."_

 _"And your fiancé," Regina realizes._

 _"Yes."_

 _"Are you… I mean… do you…" Regina stops and her eyes sink closed, her cheeks flushing slightly. "Nevermind. I can't seem to push out the words and it's probably too personal of a question, anyway." Her cheeks flush deeper as she takes a long sip of her coffee. "Please forget this happened."_

 _Mal laughs out and nods, leaning forward and peering into the cups of coffee. "Only if you let me buy the next cup for both of you," she says, plucking a menu from it's place at the side of the table. "And maybe even lunch," she says, looking between them. "Or have you already eaten?"_

 _They both shake their heads and she points out a couple of options, and they all settle on fried egg sandwiches and a plate of fries for the three of them to share. And as they wait for their order, they fall into a more comfortable conversation–a conversation that results from a series of questions about their pasts._

 _Mal asks them how they met and Regina tells her about a Medieval history class they took in undergraduate, and how they bonded over thumb screws and quartering and the Spanish Inquisition. Mal laughs, at that and her eyes brighten as she tells them about a book she read about a couple called Abelard and Heloise. Mal smiles a bit her eyes turn to Regina and she tells her she reminds her of Heloise–a bright and modern woman far ahead of her time who refused to conform. It's meant as a compliment and Regina takes it that way–and the conversation turns a bit more serious as Regina talks about what it's like to be the only woman in her cohort. Then, just as their food is arriving, Mal's eyes slide to Robin and says that like Heloise, Regina has a good man at her side, offering her support while not getting in her way–and he feels his own cheeks warming as they both grin at him._

 _She eats slowly, he notices, and almost intentionally so, pausing frequently and asking all sorts of questions, ranging from deeply personal to silly. And they answer all of them, and he's surprised how easy to is for Regina to open up when usually she's so guarded–but then, he thinks, Mal makes it easy._

 _When they've finished eating she order them all another round of coffee and they continue to talk–and he and Mal strike up a conversation about their favorite films. They like the same kind of movies and fall into an easy conversation about The Maltese Falcon and Double Indemnity, and the Stranger on the Third Floor–and he can't help but notice the way Regina eyes him as he gets caught up in Mal's assessment of This Gun For Hire._

 _"But you know what I really loved?" Mal asks, her eyes sliding from him to Regina. "And I think you might agree."_

 _"Oh?"_

 _"To Have and Have Not."_

 _"Ah," Robin murmurs. "A Bogart fan?"_

 _Mal blinks and bites down on her lip as she looks between them. "Oh, um… I prefer his other half, actually."_

 _"I do like Lauren Bacall," Regina says her eyes momentarily sliding to him as a little grin edges onto his lips. This is something he and Regina had discussed quite extensively–she, after all, was the catalyst in Regina telling him that she was also attracted to women and she was the reason Robin knew they attracted to the same types of women–and she was the source of several shared fantasies between them. "I… quite enjoy her voice," he admits, clearing her throat as her cheeks flush and her eyes momentarily slide to him–and it doesn't escape Mal's notice._

 _"Her voice just…" Mal murmurs in a low voice as Regina laughs out and her cheeks flush deeper as Mal bites down on her lip. "I'm not sure I've heard someone so…"_

 _"Yeah," Regina says shyly as chuckles escapes Robin and again, he thinks back to that first conversation he and Regina had after seeing that particular movie and how actresses' low and seductive voice_ did things _to her. "I know."_

 _"Sorry," Mal says, here eyes sliding back to Robin. "I didn't meant to make things… weird."_

 _"You didn't," he says easily. "Not at all."_

 _Mal grins and his breath catching as she reaches across the table and grabs his hand, giving it a tight squeeze–and then offers Regina a quick wink. "This was fun, but I have to go." She takes a breath and rolls her eyes. "My family has a diner thing and my fiance is in town for the next days, so…" She scrunches her shoulders and her smile tightens. "I probably should have gone a while ago, but this was fun."_

 _"It was…"_

 _"We should do it again."_

 _"You know," Mal says, looking between them as a coy little grin curls onto her lips. "I don't want to impose, but I'd love to see the apartment the two of you beat me to." She laughs and shrugs. "Dinner or something."_

 _"We could do dinner," Robin says, looking to Reigna with a shrug. "I don't mean to brag but my chicken parm is pretty fantastic."_

 _Regina's eyes roll. "It is, actually, and… I can make garlic toast that's not half bad."_

 _Mal's eyes light up as she looks between them. "I'll bring the salad and a bottle of wine. It'll be fun."_

 _"Oh," Regina murmurs as she looks between them. "So I'm really just in charge of…_ toast _."_

 _Robin laughs as he folds his arm around shoulders tugging her close and presses a kiss to her temple. "It's_ garlic _toast." He laughs again as her eyes roll and she shakes her head–and a soft smile edges onto Mal's lips as she watches them. "When are you free? We don't have much going on in the next few weeks."_

 _"Well," she begins. "My fiance is only in for a couple of days, and my mother's having a charity auction on–" Robin blinks and his eyes slide to Regina, watching as her brow arches. "You two… really don't know who I am." She laughs. "I wondered why you were acting so normal." He and Regina exchange glances, shaking their heads as they look back at her. "Millicent von Drachen… as in the German Hotel chain… my father owns a string of luxury resorts and a handful of hotels along the eastern seaboard?"_

 _"I… haven't even heard of the hotels," Regina murmurs. "I'm sor–"_

 _"No," Mal cuts in. "I like that you haven't." She smiles again and this time, there's something shy about it. "I'm not used to people wanting to be my friend without… well… wondering what that friendship can get them."_

 _"Oh…"_

 _"No, we…"_

 _"I know," she cuts in, grinning again. "So, how about this?" She asks, reaching into her purse and pulling out a pen. "I'll give you my number and you can double check and make sure you don't have something hiding on your calendars, then one of you can call me and we'll set a date." Her lip catches as she looks around the table for a scrap of paper, but aside from a couple of used napkins, there's nothing–and then, her grin turns coy again. She reaches for Regina's hand and opens her palm, pressing the pen to her skin as she writes her phone number. He swallows hard as he watches Regina's shoulders tense as Mal looks up at her, still grinning coyly as she leans in a little closer and blows lightly on the ink–and then, she looks to him as her drags her index finger over the ink to be sure that it's dried. "There," she murmurs as she pulls back. "You can write it down when you go upstairs."_

 _"I will."_

 _"And you promise you'll call?"_

 _"Of course."_

 _"Good," she decides, grabbing her purse as she rises from the table. "I'm looking forward to it."_

 _"Yeah," he says, swallowing hard, his thoughts still swirling around the image of Mal blowing on Regina's palm. "We are, too."_

 _She offers them a little wave and they watch as she she leaves, getting into a ragtop red convertible and driving off–leaving them both to grapple with what just happened._

 _"Was she flirting with… both of us?"_

 _"I think so," Regina says, laughing a little. "But, I think she's just… flirty. Some people are like that."_

 _He shrugs and stands up, offering Regina his hand as he pulls her up and folds his arm around her, pressing a kiss to her cheek as they start toward to stairs–and a little pang of guilt stabs at his core, as he thinks of Mal._

She'd sat at her desk for nearly ten minutes, staring down at the stacks of nearly arranged files that Belle placed on her desk before leaving for the day. In the span of an afternoon, she'd already produced hours of reading material. Each file had an index card paper clipped to it with a little note summarizing what Regina would find inside the actual files.

She'd skimmed over them–and most weren't terrible exciting or helpful, but it was just the start, and she knew that Belle's research had only just begun. She skims over report cards from the prestigious all-boys school and a few newspaper clippings of various events he and Mal attended, complete with guest lists and descriptions of Stefan's involvement. There are a few that look perfectly mundane, but one jumps out at her–and she can't help but noticed Mal's forced smile and puffy eyes, or the way he grips too tightly at her waist.

Then, she picks up the last file, and her curiosity is piqued at the description Belle wrote on the index card because the information inside is not about Stefan Perrault, but on his brother, Leopold.

And suddenly, her heartbeat quickens, as her eyes skim over the details of at least a dozen police reports, all of which have two common themes–the victim was a woman who'd somehow "gone against" the family and none of the cases had ever been prosecuted, they'd simply been swept under the rug, likely after some sort of monetary settlement from the Perraults.

She selects the first one and reads through it too quickly to be useful.

But she gets the gist of the story of a woman who'd reported the Perrault brothers skimming proceeds from a charity benefit they'd organized–a woman who, according to the police report and the cleaning woman who'd found her early the next morning–she'd been beaten unconscious.

And then she thinks of Mal, all alone in a suite at one of her family's hotels uptown–completely accessible to the very-much-alive Leopold Perrault.

She takes a breath and reaches for the phone on her desk, punching the number of the card Mal gave her. A hotel operator answers and she gives her Mal's name, tapping nervously at her desk as the line rings… and rings and rings.

She's not even sure if the phone's receiver is set back into its cradle before she's gathering up the files and shoving them into her bag. It's ridiculous, she thinks, to be so worried–after all, Mal's survived a week of this unscathed and for all she knows, Leopold Perrault isn't even a threat to her.

But she can't help it; she just needs to see her–see her and make sure that she's okay.

She speeds across town and no one stops her as she turns to the elevator, and the attendant punches the top floor without question. She draws in a breath as the doors close behind her and she steps up to the suite, knocking lightly once and then harder again as her heartbeat picks up–and then, she breathes out a sigh of relief as the door cracks open and Mal smiles in surprise.

"Regina, I…"

"You just… answer the door?" She asks. "You don't ask or–" Mal laughs softly and shakes her head as Regina pushes into the room. "Anyone could have been standing there. No one asked me why I was here or why I was coming up to your suite and–"

The ringing phone interrupts her, and Regina watches as Mal's jaw tightens and her fingers tremble slightly as she flattens them against her nightgown.

"Are you… going to answer that?" She asks, remembering how she'd called just a few minutes ago. "Someone might–"

"It's been like that for days."

"What?"

"It just keeps ringing."

Regina blinks. "Have you answered?"

Mal nods. "No one ever says anything, but I can hear him breathing."

"Him?"

She shrugs. "It sounds like a man."

"Leo?"

"Maybe…" Finally, it stops and Mal releases a breath. "So, um… why are you here?"

Regina smiles. "I was worried about you and I… I wanted to make sure you were alright."

"I'm fine," Mal says in a completely convincing voice. "When the phone isn't ringing, that is." Mal tries to laugh, but it gets caught in her throat–and Regina's chest tightens. She's not fine; she's terrified. "You don't need–"

"Stop," Regina sighs as she drops her bag onto the chair by the dresser. "You're not going to get rid of me that easily." She kicks off her shoes and takes her by the hand, leading her over to the bed and tugging her down next to her as she sits on the edge. "Have you eaten?"

"No."

"Neither have I," Regina murmurs, reaching for the phone–and unable to ignore the way she tenses when Regina lifts the receiver. "How about some room service?"

Mal nods. "That'd… be nice."

Regina nods and dials, listens to the person on the other end of the line list the day's options. She grins as Mal's brow arches when she orders them lobster tails, a pesto linguine and the vegetable of the day–and then Mal laughs out when she adds two slices of tiramisu and a bottle of wine. She laughs too as she hangs up, feeling a slight pang of guilt at the thought of Robin sitting in their kitchen alone a eating a cold chicken salad recipe she got off the back of the mayonnaise jar and his jello mold dessert.

Regina sets down the phone, leaving the receiver off the cradle and lays back against the pillows, stretching out her legs behind Mal, and watches as a curious grin edges onto her lips.

"You… seem to be settling in."

Regina shrugs. "Maybe I am."

"Does Robin know you're here?"

Again, she shrugs–and her shoulders square, tighten a bit as she thinks of their argument. "He knows that I'm working on your case. That's all he needs to know."

"Oh," Mal breathes out. "Is that why you're–"

"No," Regina cuts in. "And that's not what we have to talk about."

Mal nods. "It's funny, there hasn't been a day that's passed that I haven't wanted to talk to you–you and Robin–and I'd go through my days, collecting stories to tell you both, storing them away in case I ever had the chance, and now, you're sitting right in front of me, and I haven't a thing to say."

"How about we keep things light, then? We don't have to talk about the ca–"

"Robin's the prosecuting attorney, isn't it?"

Regina blinks. "How did you know that?"

"Just a guess," she admits, "Something about the way you responded to the way I asked about him."

"Oh…"

"Regina, I don't want to drive a wedge between the two of you."

"You're not," she insists, reaching out and taking hold of her of her hand. "We got into an argument, and I just need a little time to cool down and he needs a little time to realize that I'm right." A grin edges onto Mal's lips and she shakes her head. "Robin and I will be fine."

"But you fought about me?"

"No," she says easily. "We fought about…. the same thing we've been fighting about for a year now."

Mal's head tips to the side as she turns toward her. "That's not like the two of you. At least, it wasn't."

"It's still not," Regina sighs. "But him taking that ADA position has never sat well with me."

"Why did he take it?"

Regina sighs and her eyes roll. "Something about justice… or avenging the wronged… or something like that."

A little grin edges onto Mal's lips. "But it was always your dream to be a part of a firm together."

"And we had that for awhile," she shrugs. "I didn't realize he stopped wanting it… until he told me about the ADA position." A little grin edges onto her lips as she reaches out and squeezes Mal's hand. "Though, I suppose it would be sort of fun to wipe the floor with him in court, and that's _exactly_ what I intend to do."

Mal nods, taking a breath as her fingers curl around Regina's hand. "I just don't want it to put too much of a strain on the two of you. I couldn't bear it if–"

"Mal," Regina cuts in. "Robin and I will be fine. We're both stressed out and adjusting to something new, and… we're going to be just fine."

"Good," Mal says, letting out a shaky breath. "That's good."

Mal flinches as a knock comes at the door, and a second later, her cheeks flush when a young man's voice calls out that their room service has arrived. Regina gets up and smiles, padding across the room and opening the door, letting the man push in the cart. Regina tips him and he leaves, and she pushes the cart over to the bed. There's a little dinette at the far corner of the suite and a little living area, but neither of those spaces sound nearly as appealing–and neither would allow them to cuddle up together the way the bed would–and she so desperately wants to do that, to cuddle up beside Mal and hold her until she believes that she really is alright.

She takes off her jacket and untucked her blouse, rolling her shoulders as she lifts the lids from their plates and grins. "Do you remember that night we spent here?" She asks as she reaches for the wine cork. "I still think about that salmon, sometimes."

"I still think of all of it," Mal admits, looking away sheepishly. "I remember the salmon and the wine, and I remember the candles and the rose petals and–" She laughs. "And I remember thinking the two of you were going to accuse me of reading too many trashy novels."

"We didn't, though."

"No," she says, shaking her head. "You both thought it was sweet and romantic."

"Because it was."

She laughs a little and shakes her head. "And you should have heard all the explaining I had to do when my father got a bill that clearly indicated that there were three of us in here all weekend."

Regina laughs. "Well, you won't have to do any explaining about this evening," she tells her. "You're having dinner with your lawyer. That's perfectly innocent."

"Except that you're my lawyer because I murdered my husband," Mal says flatly. "That's not so innocent."

Regina feels her chest tighten, but she smiles nonetheless. "But it's explainable," she says, as a grin curls onto her lips. "And you can tell him that your lawyer hasn't had a meal that didn't consist primarily of mayonnaise or Campbell's soup in… years."

Mal grins and nods as Regina pours the wine. "I see you're still quite the culinary expert."

"Robin's not bad, but…" She sighs. "He's been busy and our children don't particularly care for the food he makes." She shrugs. "It's not smothered in… cheese or creamed soup."

Mal laughs as Regina sits back on the bed, pulling pillow into her lap and setting her plate on top of it. "You know, there's a table and–"

"I know," Regina says, grinning as she pats the empty space beside her. "But that doesn't quite meet my needs."

Mal's brow arches. "I don't know if–"

"I don't mean _those_ needs," Regina murmurs. "I meant it when I said this evening would be perfectly innocent." She watches as Mal settles beside her and pulls her own pillow into her lap to help balance her plate–and then, Regina slides closer until their shoulders touch. "And I can't quite comfort you as well in a hard chair with a table between us."

"Oh," Mal grins, looking down at their touching arms. "I see."

"And, not to be _that mom_ , but as I soon as I'm done with my dinner I'm going to pull out the picture book from my purse and make you look at pictures of my kids because they are fucking adorable and could make anyone smile." She nods. "Really. They're that cute."

Mal laughs out and brightens a little–and Regina feels her heart flutter at the first genuine smile she's seen from her all day.

"Henry's missing like three teeth and has the sweetest eyes, and Roland has this wildly curly hair and the cutest dimples and–" She laughs. "And I'm getting ahead of myself," she says. "I'll let the pictures speak for themsel–"

"No," Mal cut in. "I want to hear about them."

At that, Regina brightens and she launches into a story about how they came to the decision to let them go off to summer camp–or rather, how Robin and the boys ganged up on her to both convince her and override her opinions on it. Mal laughs and seems to ask a hundred questions that leads to story after story, and by the time dinner and desert is finished, Regina's made her way through her picture book–and by the time they've finished off the wine, Mal's head is on her shoulder and her eyes are closed, but smile her smile is still there.

"Keep talking," Mal says, her voice groggy. "Please, keep talking."

Regina laughs a little as she rubs her hand over her arm. "I've only just gotten started," she tells her as she launches into yet another story, talking until Mal is asleep and her own eyes are heavy with sleep.

 _She's circled the block at least four times–and still, it's not nearly close enough to seven o'clock._

 _It occurred to her that she could just go into Granny's and have a cup of coffee, but she didn't want to seem like she was trying too hard or coming on too strongly because she liked–she really liked_ them _._

 _When she'd first spotted Regina at the party, she'd been staring at her–and she could have sworn she was checking her out. But then Robin had come over and she'd introduced him as her boyfriend, and it'd taken everything in her not to show her disappointment._

 _But then, they'd got to talking and by the end of the evening her head was swimming–and she found herself thinking things that she could barely admit to herself, let alone the two of them._

 _She hadn't made it a secret that she found them attractive–her with those deep brown eyes and him with those dimples–and she flirted openly the both. Neither seemed to mind it–in fact, they seemed to find it charming–and there was no harm in a little flirting._

 _And she really did like them._

 _They talked to her like she was a person, and that was something of a rarity. To most, she was a ditzy blonde and a party girl, she didn't have opinions and she couldn't hold a serious conversation and she barely had interests outside of attending parties and sipping cocktails. There were some who pretended well–her parents and some of her friends–and the were others whose motives for wanting her around had more to do with what her friendship could bring them than her actual friendship._

 _But they were different._

 _They asked her questions and waited for her to respond, they listened to her responses and didn't miss or correct them–and just naturally assumed that she'd read things and could handle a university art program, and they didn't cast her off as just another socialite who'd never known more than a few ballroom dances and how to pass off judgement as a seemed to find her interesting and maybe even a little mysterious, and there was a connection between them that she couldn't quite yet figure out–but she most certainly wanted to try._

 _And she found them captivating._

 _Regina was so smart–bright and witty–and she admired her independent streak. It wasn't common to be a young woman in law school, much less a young woman at an ivy league school on a scholarship–and when she spoke of it, she made it all sound effortless, like she didn't have to work twice as hard as anyone else for half the credit. And Robin was so sweet. He was open-minded and curious, the easy going sort–and from what she could see, not at all the jealous type. When they spoke, he had a way of making her feel important, a way of validating her even when he didn't agree. She liked that he didn't speak down to her and held her opinion as high as his own–and when he smiled, he seemed so genuine._

 _Finally, she pulls into the little lot behind Granny's and grabs the large wooden salad bowl and grocery bag from the passenger side. The wine is already in her bag and so is a deck of cards–and she figured that five minutes either way wouldn't matter much, and that she could blame the lack of traffic on her earliness._

 _She enters the cafe and waves to Granny and the old woman's brow arches when she turns down a cup of coffee, informing her she has a dinner date upstairs–and then, once she's at the top of the stairs, she feels her stomach flutter._

 _She wants this to go well; she wants them to want to be her friends._

 _Taking a breath, she knocks–and before she can knock a second time, Robin opens it. He smiles brightly as he reaches for the bag, and Regina greets her with an equally bright smile._

 _"I'm sorry I'm a little early," she says, feigning regret. "I just–"_

 _"Oh, it's fine," Regina calls as she steps out from the little kitchen. "My garlic toast has been prepped for nearly an hour." She folds her arms and looks to Robin. "I'm now allowed to do anything else" Mal grins as Robin's eyes roll, and Regina comes into the living room, taking the bowl from her. "You can keep me company," she decides._

 _"She has a history of… burning things," he says as Regina scoffs. "And, considering we have company tonight, I thought it might be nice for dinner to be edible."_

 _"I'm sure it's not that bad," Mal says, looking between them–their banter is amusing. Regina grins at her, then looks to Robin who chuckles softly and shakes his head. "Maybe you can help me with the salad?"_

 _"Perfect, I will."_

 _Robin's hand slips across her back and he draws her in, pecking softly at her lips. "You can't burn that."_

 _She scoffs again and playfully pushes him away–and then she reaches for her hand, tugging her into the kitchen. It's too small for three people to get around without bumping into each other, but they manage–and it even adds to the fun of it. She and Regina make a caesar salad and she whispers to Regina that she stole a bottle of dressing from the kitchen of one of her parents' hotels–and that earns a giggle that makes her heart flutter and her cheeks warm. They assemble the caprese salad sticks as Robin pulls the chicken parmigiana from the oven–and Regina leaves her side to pop the garlic toast into the oven._

 _She sets the timer and grabs the a stack of plates and silverware as Robin transfers the chicken from the baking dish to a serving platter and follows on her heels–and then she takes in the salads._

 _"You should feel honored," he tells her. "Normally we'd eat straight from the baking dish in front on the coffee table or if we're feeling fancy, we'd pull out the paper plates."_

 _She laughs softly and smiles as Regina's eyes roll. "I hope you didn't go to any trouble."_

 _"Not at all," Regina insist, swatting gently at Robin's arm. "And he didn't mean to imply that."_

 _"I truly didn't mean it that way," he says, suddenly looking serious. "I just meant we don't get a lot of company."_

 _"Really?" She asks, finding it hard to believe. "You two seem so…"_

 _"Uppity," Regina says. "Or at least that's what the rumor mill says."_

 _Mal's eyes widen–they're anything but._

 _"Most of our cohort thinks it's awfully big of me to_ allow _my fiance to pursue a law degree."_

 _Regina nods. "The first day of class, someone commented that it was nice that tagged along to take notes for my boyfriend."_

 _"No," Mal scoffs, her eyes widening as her jaw drops. "They wouldn't have."_

 _"Oh, but they did," Robin sighs. "We didn't get off on the best foot here."_

 _"I don't think it was the two of you who–"_

 _Her voice halts and Robin and Regina stop, and the three of them look to the kitchen–and then Regina mutters a low_ son of a bitch _beneath her breath breath and darts toward the kitchen. Robin chuckles, shaking his head as he looks to her, but before he can say anything, Regina appears from the kitchen with her bottom lip pouted out and plate of burned toast in her hands._

 _"Ohh, and you even set a timer," Mal says as Regina sighs–and then a little snicker escapes Robin, and a moment later, they're all laughing._

 _She grabs the bottle of wine from her bag and they sit down to eat, and enjoy the meal–burned garlic toast, and all._

 _She's surprised at how easily they fall into a conversation about Italy–Regina has family she's never met there and Robin's always wanted to go–to see Rome and the Vatican City, to float in a gondola through Venice and visit the Ancient ruins of Pompeii–and Regina confesses that in another life, they'd consider it as a honeymoon spot._

 _Mal nods and tells them about the summers she spent there as a teenager–and when she makes a comment about how sad it is to see what's happened in Italy in the most recent years, they nod and listen._

 _The conversation turns to politics and war. Robin tells her about why he isn't serving–how he received a special deferment given to men like him, men whose mothers were widows and men who were only sons–but still, he confesses, he feel guilty for not going. Regina counters his guilt, saying it'd gut his mother and it'd gut her, that she didn't care about duty or obligation._

 _It's more serious than she anticipated, but that doesn't mean it's bad and she enjoys it more than she thought she would. Normally in these sorts of conversations, her voice was ignored, her opinions not valued, and she worried too much about what others might think of her. But with them it's so different, and as the night goes on she finds herself getting more comfortable, she finds herself opening up and discovering the side of herself that she never really knew existed– of course she always had her opinions, but she kept them to herself– and there's something quite fraying about that._

 _Eventually though the conversation dies down, and Robin reaches for the bottle of wine. you tops off their glasses and chuckles softly, and she famous disappointment that the wine is gone telling them she hoped his last couple of games. At that, their interest perks, and she tells and she hoped they could play a couple games of cards–that is, if wasn't too late and she wasn't overstaying her welcome._

 _And she can't help but smile when they both dismiss the notion._

 _Regina grabs another bottle of wine, making a joke about it not being quite as fancy but promises it'll have the same effect and they all settle around the coffee table. They play a few rounds of gin rummy–and this time they keep the conversation light._

 _They finish off the bottle and switch to spades, playing a few hands before Regina suggests another bottle. It occurs to her that she should say no, that she should sober up for the drive home, but before she can say anything Regina's leaning over her and filling her glass. For a moment, she watches her–the way her hair fall over her face, the way she giggles to herself as she tops off the glass and the way her shirt hitches up in the back, revealing a strip of smooth skin. She takes a breath and she can smell her apple scented lip balm–and for an all too brief moment, she considers turning and catching her lips between hers, and she considers how good she'd taste._

 _But she doesn't. She can't._

 _Her cheeks flush though as Regina pulls back, and from the corner of her eye she can see that Robin noticed her staring just a bit too long–and to her surprise he's grinning and something about that sends tingles down her spine._

 _They play couple more games and drink a couple more glasses–and then, they switch to a few hands of Go Fish, all taking it far too seriously._

 _Her head is spinning when Regina finally yawns and tosses down her cards, telling them both that she's too tired to play anymore. Robin nods in agreement, and she can't help but feel a little sad that what's been such a perfect evening is coming to an end._

 _"Ooh," she murmurs as she looks to the clock. "It's nearly three. I should be going."_

 _"You aren't going anywhere," Robin says. "You're too drunk."_

 _"Yeah," Regina nods, slowly trying to get up. "We've got a pull out sofa bed." She blinks and steadies herself and then looks to Mal. "It's really comfortable," she insists. "It was a gift from my father. It's where he thinks I sleep."_

 _A grin curls onto her lips. "Something tells me no one's ever slept on that thing."_

 _"I did once," Regina says, a bit indignantly as she places her hands on her hips. "Robin had a cold and was too gross and annoying to sleep with."_

 _Mal laughs as Robin's brow furrows and he pouts for a moment. "I've already stayed too long."_

 _"Nonsense!" Robin insists. "We've loved having you."_

 _"I can just snag some coffee from–"_

 _"No," Regina says. "I think we've settled it. You're spending the night."_

 _"But I–"_

 _"You can borrow a nightgown."_

 _Mal's brow creases. "How did you know I was going to say that?"_

 _Regina just laughs and pushes past them and disappears into the bedroom–and for a moment, she just watches the way Robin gazes in the direction of the bedroom. There's something about the way he looks at Regina that she finds so attractive–and then when he turns back to the couch, tossing the pillows to the floor and pushing the coffee table out of the way, she can't help but watch his arms as he pulls the bed out. He smiles warmly at her as he smooths the sheet, she smiles back, feeling her chest flutter. His eyes are bright, even if a little glossy, and his dimples sink into his cheeks in a way that's so damn adorable–and she wonders what it'd be like to let him fold those arms around her and hold her against this chest and–_

 _She stops._

 _She can't do this._

 _She can't let herself ruin this–so, she smiles and says thank you._

 _A moment later joins them again and with her, she brings a blanket and pillow and the promised nightgown. Again Mal thanks her, and she thinks of try to back out again, but there isn't even a little part of her that actually wants to leave._

 _"So, I suppose this is good night," Robin says as his arm slides around Regina's waist._

 _"Yeah," Mal. "And I really appreciate you letting me stay."_

 _Regina nods. "So, goodnight, then…"_

 _"Good night," she says, offering one last smile as she watches them turn toward their bedroom, watching as Robin hugs Regina into his side and her head falls to his shoulder, and watching the way he presses a kiss to her hair as they turn into their room–and all she can thinks of is what a beautiful couple they make._

There's a dull aching in her temples and a tension in her neck and shoulders she just can't shake, and she can't wait to have that first cup of coffee–and a couple of aspirin.

She didn't sleep well the night before, if she slept at all–but when Mal woke up and smiled shyly at her, batting her blue eyes groggily as she realized Regina had stayed and held her through the night, any discomfort she felt that morning seemed completely worthwhile.

The night before it'd been so easy to get caught up in the nostalgia of being close to her again–and she desperately wanted to make up for lost time.

But she wasn't sure where they stood–and, it'd been a little awkward as they'd said their goodbyes.

By the time she reached the elevator, she found herself having to remind herself that goodbye wasn't really goodbye, that she'd see her again in a matter of hours, that she wasn't walking out of her life–but she also had to wonder how long that would last.

She'd gone home and taken a quick shower and changed into fresh clothes, and then she made her way to the office and her thoughts shifted from Mal to Stefan and how she could get her out of this…

She was barely through the door when she heard Robin's voice and it was only then that she realized he wasn't at home when she'd arrived–and then she felt a slight pang of guilt at the realization that she'd never called to let him know that she wasn't at her office and she wouldn't be home.

Robin smiles a bit awkwardly and he nurses a cup of coffee as she steps toward him, her jaw tensing and her shoulders tightening as he lifts a second cup of coffee as what looks like a peace offering.

"You didn't come home last night," he says as she takes the cup. "I thought you might have fallen asleep here, but…"

"No," she says in a small voice, not really knowing what to say. "I didn't stay here for very long, actually."

"Oh…"

For a moment, no one says anything, but the tension between them is nearly palpable, and it feels like they're gearing up for a fight–a fight that would be better had in a more private setting and without the audience of Regina's assistant.

"And, I do believe that's my cue," Belle murmurs as she slips between them. "I wanted to grab some… carbon paper or… something."

Regina draws in a breath, her eyes pressing closed as Belle rounds the corner into the little supply room–and she knows the inevitable conversation she and Robin are about to have will take longer than it'll take Belle to grab a box of carbon paper. "Let's talk in my office," she tells him, letting her eyes meet his for a brief moment before she looks away and steps past him, reminding herself that she hasn't really done anything wrong–aside from not call him the night before and the guilt resting heavily in the pit of her stomach is unwarranted.

"Something you don't want Belle to hear… or maybe to know about?" He asks as soon as the door is shut. "Something you'd–"

"Stop," she cuts in, her eyes narrowing as she turns to face him. "Don't do that. Don't make this into something it's not."

"I don't know what it is," he says, shrugs. "You didn't call."

"Are you… jealous?"

"I was worried, Regina," he says, his tone filled with an accusation he hasn't yet voiced. "We got into a fight and then you didn't come home."

Her head tips to the side–and though she feels guilty, she's also doubtful. "Robin, you thought I fell asleep at my desk. You didn't even realize that I–"

"You were with Mal," he cuts in, his jaw tightening. "You spent the night with her."

She blinks, her jaw tightening with indignation. "I was, and… I did."

"Did you sleep with her?" He asks in a voice that's low and controlled–the sort of voice that's just a little too smug and condescending for his character. "Did you–"

"Are you asking me if I cheated on you?"

"I'm asking if you slept with her."

She nods–not in confirmation but in annoyance. Gritting her teeth, she steps further into the office and closer to him as her eyes narrow–she's not sure what he's asking, and she's not entirely sure what she is and isn't allowed to do, what requires permission and what is just understood. Years ago when Mal was a steady figure in their lives, they'd agreed that she was different. There weren't a lot of rules they put in place, but there were rules–and never had any of them seemed jealous. That'd been the beautiful thing about their little arrangement–everyone was happy and everyone got what they needed. From the start, it was apparent that what they had with Mal wasn't going to be a fling. It wasn't meaningless, and their relationships with her and with each other were all rooted in mutual love and rest, there was trust between them–and always, there'd been honesty.

At first, when they were first trying to figure out how a relationship like theirs would work, the lines had been a little blurry, but they'd quickly settled into a routine and Mal was just a part of their lives, a part of the relationship. It wasn't something they thought about–in same way they didn't think about being together. They'd fallen in love with her–and she with them–and it'd happened before any of them admitted it. And though they'd put rules in place, as long as it was some combination of the three of them, everything was fine.

It didn't bother her when she came home from the library to find Robin and Mal together in bed–sometimes, she'd join them and other times she wouldn't–and he didn't flinch when she and Mal got swept up in a moment without him, he just let them have it and let them enjoy one another, knowing that there would be time for the three of them later. Likewise, Mal never seemed to feel left out when the two of them made time for each other–in fact, she expected it. As unconventional as it all was, it worked for them and it hadn't been _her_ decision to end it–but then, it hadn't been _his_ , either.

"Is it really cheating if it's Mal?"

Robin swallows and his eyes sink closed–and she can't quite read him. "Is that your answer?"

"Is that what we were doing all those years?" She asks as heat prickles at the back of her neck and she takes another step in. "Were we cheating on each other whenever we were with her?"

"No," he sighs. "That's… different."

"Different," she repeats, scoffing as her eyes roll. "How is it different? We all agreed a long time ago that–"

"Damn it, Regina, it just _is_ ," he cuts in, his eyes wide and his jaw tight–and again, guilt stabs at her core when she notices how hurt he looks. "That was a long time ago and–"

"I didn't sleep with her, alright?" She sighs and takes a step in. "I didn't even kiss her. I wouldn't just do that."

"But you spent the night with her."

"Yeah," she murmurs. "I spent the night with her because…" She draws in a breath. "She needed me."

For a few minutes a silence falls between them, and again, she finds herself unable to read him. He's staring at her in a way that makes her uncomfortable. His eyes aren't hard and they're no longer accusatory–but there's also not the empathy or understanding that's usually there, even when they fight, and she's not quite sure that he believes her or trusts her–and that hurts. He seems lost in his head–far away and distant–

"Robin, I'm… I'm sorry," she says. "You're right. I should have called."

"Why didn't you?"

She shrugs. She doesn't have an answer. She can't say that it didn't occur to her because it had, and she can't say that she was too angry with him and needed to cool down because that wasn't true either. So, she says nothing–all she can do is shake her head and shrug.

"So, you… you spent the night together."

"Nothing happened," she tells him, her voice soft and sincere as regret stabs at her core. "I wouldn't cheat on you, Robin. Not even with her."

"I believe you," he says, sighing as he takes a sip of his seemingly forgotten coffee. "If you say that nothing happened, then nothing happened." She watches as he draws in a breath. "I'm sorry that I suggested otherwise."

"I am, too," she tells him. "I'm sorry that I didn't call and that you were worried. I just… I hated the way we left things between us and then I got caught up in Mal and the case and I–" She stops, pressing her lips closed as she traces her finger along the lid of her coffee cup and she realizes that she has to be careful about what she says, that no matter what, they're on opposite sides of this. "The point is… I'm sorry."

He nods, drawing in a breath as he takes another sip of his coffee. "So, um… how is she?"

"She's…" Her voice trails off at him and she knows that he's not asking as the prosecuting attorney of her case, but as someone who once loved her. "She's pretending that she's okay, but she's not, and seeing her like that was…" She looks up at him, softening as she shrugs her shoulders. "It was hard."

"I… can only imagine," he murmurs as his head falls forward and he rubs his fingers at his brow. "Is it just… um… because of what happened or–"

"I don't think so," she says, reaching for his hand and tugging him over to the couch near the window. "One of the things that always sticks out in my memory about her was how flirty she was… how she'd laugh and how she'd touch us and how it was just a part of her personality. It was just… part of who she was." Robin nods, smiling a little sadly and obviously remember as they sit together and Regina sets her coffee on the table and finally lets her back slip down from her shoulder. "That was… gone," she tells him. "I tried to hold her hand just to comfort her and she flinched and pulled away and…"

"Well, I'm sure she's scared."

Regina nods. "I just couldn't leave her like that."

Robin nods and sighs, again taking a long sip of his coffee. "No, I wouldn't have been able to either."

"I didn't really even expect to say the night," she admits. "I just wanted to check on her, but when I got there… I couldn't leave." Robin looks back to her and his eyes are soft and full of concern–and finally, she sees the empathy in him what she'd been hoping to see all along. "Her hands were trembling and her eyes were teary, and the phone kept ringing and–"

"What?"

"She and I both assumed it was Leopold Perr–"

"Stefan's brother?" Regina nods and Robin's jaw tightens–and again, a little grin tugs at the corner of her mouth when he seems defensive. "He was always… an aggressive asshole."

"Like his brother."

"Yeah," she murmurs. "And I can't imagine he's too pleased with Mal right now."

"No," he sighs as his eyes pressed closed. "He's not."

Her brows arch and he looks to her–and neither of them say anything, both realizing their treading a fine line.

"Did you… go into your office yet?" She asks cautiously, remembering the evening before that he said he hadn't even looked at the file Gold gave him, yet now, it seemed like he had information. "I'm just–"

"Not this morning," he tells her. "But last night, after I ate dinner."

She nods–and again, silence fall between them as they both grapple with the line neither should cross.

"So, um… I assume you two just… talked about her case last night?"

She shakes her head. "That's why I went there–or part of why I did–but she didn't want to talk about it."

"Oh…"

"We talked about you," she says, letting a little grin edge its way onto lips. "And I told her about the boys."

At that, he grins. "She was always good with kids."

Regina nods and a little laugh escapes her. "Did you really eat what I made for dinner last night?"

He blinks. "You ordered room service, didn't you? Food that wasn't made of mayonnaise and gelatin."

Nodding, she bites down on her lip. "Well, Mal hadn't eaten and…" She tries to play it off like a joke, wanting to keep the mood light and stay away from the things they shouldn't be talking about, but she can't. "She's so thin." His face falls and he blinks at her, and she can see the concern settling in his eyes. "I didn't realize it when she came into the office yesterday afternoon, but when she answered the door, she was wearing this thin little nightgown and it just kind of hung on her." She draws in a breath, thinking about the way Mal had felt against her as she slept–how frail she felt and how when they'd awoken in the morning, she couldn't help but notice how visible the bones in her back were. "It's, um… it's pretty clear that she hasn't been taking care of herself, and… I don't think she has been for a long time."

He lets out a shallow breath and nods. "I'm glad you stayed with her."

"I just couldn't leave her," she admits. "So I ordered us some room service and I took the phone receiver off of the cradle and… we just talked and laid together until she fell asleep."

"Are you going back tonight?"

"I… want to," she says quietly. "I don't think she should be alone right now, but I don't know if…"

"I'm not jealous," he cuts in. "Not of Mal, and especially now right now." Her offers her a guilty little smile and shrugs his shoulders. "I never was, I just…"

"It's been a lot."

"In a very short amount of time."

"It has been," she nods, reaching across him and taking his hand. "You know, I still haven't quite adjusted to you not being here. Sometimes, I'll hear something on the radio and I'll go across the hall to tell you, or I'll go and pick up a doughnut and bring one back for you." She grins and shrugs. "Belle's doesn't complain about the doughnuts, but I think it bugs her when when I start yelling into an empty room."

He grins and turns her hand over in his and pushes his fingers down between hers. "I can't believe _this_ is my first case."

"Did you look at that file?"

He nods. "After I made a chicken salad sandwich, I went back back to my office and reviewed the file… and…" He sighs and his head falls back. "I don't know how I'm supposed to do this."

"Then don't."

"Regina…"

"I'm serious."

"You know Gold's reputation. You know he's just going to–"

She bristles and feels her jaw tighten. "Robin, it's obviously a conflict of interest. You can't change that I'm your–"

He nods. "And last night, that's what I decided to do," he tells her shrugging his shoulders. "I started going through the file and I realized you were right and there are plenty of reasons I shouldn't take this case."

"So, you're dropping it?"

"No."

She blinks. "What? You just said…"

"I know," he says, sucking in a breath as he takes a sip of his coffee. "That's actually why I'm here." Her brow arches. "I… reviewed what Gold has so far–and really, it's not much more than what the police gathered together, but… um…"

"I can't believe you're going to do this," she says, pulling her hand away from his. "This is Mal we're talking about not some–"

"Just listen," he cuts in. "Maybe I am the prosecutor who should be prosecuting this case."

'That's–" She stops and her brows arch. "Robin, what are you saying?"

He shrugs. "I don't know, actually. I just know that when I going through the file and Leopold is… already trying to make it seem like Mal's…" He stops and draws in a breath. "I probably shouldn't…"

"No," she says, shaking her head. "You shouldn't because what it sounds like you're implying is unethical, at best." Her eyes widen as his eyes meet hers–and he looks so conflicted. "Robin, it sounds like you're saying you'll intentionally lose."

"There's not much of a case against–"

"Robin…"

"Regina, listen," he cuts in, again reaching for her hand. "You are brilliant. You're a phenomenal lawyer, and the prospect of you wiping the floor with me is pretty high." She can't help but grin at that, and he sighs. "And from what I saw, we don't have much of a case."

"Robin, you shouldn't–"

"Say that the police had a list of suspects that was a mile long? That even after it became clear that Mal was the one who shot him, no one who'd ever worked for them would say a bad thing about her? Or that the only person who who seemed to think this was in-character was Stefan's sleazy brother."

"She didn't mention–" Her eyes sink closed. "What did Leopold say about her? If it's in the police records, it's probably already in my bag." Swallowing hard, she looks at him. "He probably wants her burned at the stake."

"Lobotomized."

"What?"

"He… said she should have been lobotomized years ago."

Her eyes sink closed as he goes onto explain numerous occasions when Leopold claimed that Mal embarrassed Stafan by flirting with other women. He cites ones particular story about a woman named Rose–a woman Leopold claims Mal publicly kissed–and how rumors about them quickly spread. It'd been humiliating for him and she'd done it simply to make him look bad–and he lamented that the legal recourse available to his brother had been limited only a few years before, and joked that he'd had to take matters into his own hands. And then, he went on to tell a story about a woman who cold and calculated and had slowly eaten away at his brother dignity until finally the only thing she had left to take was his life.

It was overly dramatic and nauseating–and it was the sort of thing most other men in Robin's position would latch onto because the only hope he had of winning was to exploit that one little detail of Mal's personality.

"It's a dead lead," Robin says simply. "It doesn't mean anything."

"So, you won't pursue it."

He swallows hard and shrugs his shoulder as their eyes meet. "I don't see the connection."

"Robin, a jury would fixate on something–"

"Not if I don't argue it or present evidence for–"

"But, that's–"

"There isn't a connection between her being attracted to women and her shooting Stefan–or, at least not one that should help my case."

"Gold won't be impressed if you don't go for the low-hanging fruit. He'll realize that–"

"Let me worry about Gold," he tells her simply with a shrug of his shoulders. "Besides, like I said, no is going to question you kicking my ass across the courtroom." A little grin edges onto his lips. "You mentioned that Gold has a reputation… well… so do you." Leaning in, he presses a kiss to her forehead. "This is going to work."

"And if Gold fires you?"

He shrugs. "I'll come back here."

"And if you get disbarred?"

He rolls his eyes. "That's extreme, but I'll figure something out." And then he smiles sadly as their eyes meet. "I feel like I owe this to her, Regina. When I was reading those reports, all I could think about was that we didn't fight for her. We just let her walk away and marry that bastard."

"Me, too."

"She's worth any risk." Regina nods–she is. "And I'm sorry about what I said last night. I didn't mean–"

"I know," she cuts in. "I think we were both a little caught off guard."

"Yeah, it did."

He takes a breath. "Regina, I… I want…"

"To see her?"

He nods. "I need to."

"I… told her that I was going to check on her this afternoon. I wanted to take her to lunch or… or at least order room service," she says, taking a breath. "You should come. I think she'd like to see you too."

"You think so?"

Regina nods. "I was… pretty annoyed with you last night," she tells him. "She defended you… like she always does."

Laughing softly to himself, he shakes his head. "Not always."

Her eyes narrow and she turns to him, and a little smile curls onto her lips. "You know, you and I have always had our fights. We get annoyed with each other and we say stupid, hurtful things, but neither of us ever got mad at her."

"No," he murmurs. "She's too–"

"Yeah," Regina nods and laughs softly to herself. "I agree."

"I don't think I should come to visit Mal with you," he says. "You should go and have lunch with her and… then bring her home."

"Bring her home," she repeats. "You want me to…"

"I think she should stay with us," he tells her. "I'll make dinner for the three of us and it'll be like old times."

"Will it?"

"Maybe," he says with a shrug. "But if she's with us she'll be safer and–"

"You don't think she's safe?"

Robin's jaw tightens and suddenly, he seems so serious. "Leopold made some threats, and while I'd like to think they were empty, he does have a violent past, and… I think we'd both sleep better at night if she were with us."

"With us, as in…"

Again, he shrugs. "I don't know. I don't really know what that means, but do know that she shouldn't be alone."

Leaning in, he kisses her cheek and tells her he has to go–and she nods and her stomach tightens as she thinks about Mal, alone in her hotel room–and then she thinks about how nice it'd be to have her with the again, and she finds herself wondering if it could ever been like it was, if they could all ever be as happy as they were.

 _Over the course of the last two months, dinners with Mal have become something of a routine–in fact, doing just about everything with Mal has become something of a routine._

 _It started off as a once-a-week dinner and game night, and then it turned into a few nights a week, and now it was any night that Mal didn't have other plans–which most weeks, was every night. They had their game nights and they listened to radio programs; they went to parties together and daytime outings. She went with them to the library with them, thumbing through her favorite poetry and art books or losing herself in a novel while they browsed through the law and history sections, and sometimes she'd surprise them and spend an afternoon reading Nietzsche then switching over to the trashiest romance novel she could find._

 _She gladly ran errands with them and somehow, with her, even the most mundane tasks, like grocery shopping, seemed exciting._

 _It was fun to watch her peruse the aisles, tossing things into their cart that they would never have thought to buy. She introduced them to sushi and Russian caviar, and there was a fondue pot that now lived in their kitchen. She brought over Ethiopian coffee, they ate things like moussaka and spanakopita, and expensive French chocolates and wine–and they introduced her to things like corndogs from street carts, shoestring fries from a cheap 24-hour diner, and fried spam and eggs for breakfast._

 _Everything with Mal felt like an adventure. Even simple things, like hiking through the winding trails of the nearby park–something Regina always adamantly refused to do–or the spa days the girls would have while he listened to the Dodgers game on the radio, felt exciting. She was exciting and alluring, and there was something so easy and comfortable about being near her._

 _And whenever it was time for her to leave, they both felt a little sad–and when she was gone, it felt like something was missing._

 _"I'm not sure I've ever eaten a parsnip," Regina says as she pulls one from the canvas grocery bag. "They're just like… potatoes, right? Starchy and… bland?"_

 _Robin nods as he looks up from the cutting board, smiling proudly at his cheesecloth bundle of spices and chipped up vegetables. "Yeah," he tells her as he lifts the top covering the pot of rump roast and broth. "Kind of, anyway."_

 _He grins as the scent wafts through the small kitchen and a grin pulls onto Regina's face when it reaches her. "Oh my god," she murmurs as she looks to him. "That smells amazing."_

 _His brow arches. "You doubt my culinary expertise?"_

 _"Considering you ate Spam straight out of the can yesterday, yeah, I do," she says as a coy smile edges onto her lips. "But I don't doubt Mal's, and this looks like a Mal recipe."_

 _He watches as she picks up the card–watching the way she smiles down at Mal's writing on the card, watching the way her fingers trace the edge and watching the way her thoughts shift from recipe card to Mal._

 _They haven't talked about it, but he knows that she's attracted to Mal. She hasn't tried to hide it–she hasn't tried to pretend not to let her eyes linger on Mal or focus in on her full lips, she hasn't tried not to flirt and she hasn't tried to hide affectionate moments. But then, neither has he. They've hidden behind the flirtiness of Mal's personality–it's just how she is, they'd decided–but though they didn't hide their attraction to her, they'd shied away from admitting it to one another, and they'd certainly shied away from admitting it to Mal–their friendship with her simply meant too much to them to ruin._

 _But he was starting to wonder if that were actually true–if admitting their feelings would mean the end of their friendship. He'd been watching her interaction with her friends closely, and she was different with the two of them than she was with her other friends and acquaintances. She was flirty and outgoing, but she kept them at a distance, often acting more aloof and carefree than she actually was. It was act, he realized, a way to self-preserve–people couldn't hurt her if she didn't let them get too close._

 _She allowed him and Regina to get close, though–and there were times when it seemed she was just as attracted to them as they were to her._

 _At first he thought it was all in his head, that he was projecting his own feelings, but as they spent an increasing amount of time with her, that seemed to be less and less the case–and more and more she was starting to feel like a part of their relationship rather than just a friend._

 _And he didn't mind it; in fact, he enjoyed it._

 _"What gives you that impression?" He asks, clearing his throat as he returns to cover pot. "What makes you think that it's Mal's recipe and not mine?" He grins as Regina blinks up at him. "Beside the fact that it's clearly written in her handwriting."_

 _She laughs softly and looks down at the card. "The card says Pot-au-Feu. You'd just call it beef stew, and would probably have ten less ingredients, and if this were your recipe, you wouldn't have have been stealing spices from Granny."_

 _"Stealing is a strong word."_

 _Her brow arches. "Just because you left a couple of quarters on her counter and a note, doesn't mean you didn't steal them."_

 _He grins–that's true enough–and then, he draws in a breath. "Regina, can I… ask you something?"_

 _"Of course."_

 _"Please, don't take this the wrong way or… think I'm upset or…"_

 _"Well, now you're worrying me," she cuts in, chewing at her lip._

 _"You have feelings for her, don't you?"_

 _Her eyes widen and she looks up at him. "What?"_

 _"You like Mal."_

 _"Of course, I do," she says as her shoulders tense and he watches as she grows flustered–and then adorably tries to hide it. "She's my friend. She's… my best friend, actually."_

 _He nods and takes a few steps toward her as little grin edges onto his lips. "I think you like her as more than a friend," he says, taking her hand. "I think you're attracted to her and I think… you… might even be falling in love with her. And if you want to explore that, I won't–"_

 _Her eyes widen and tears begin to well as her jaw trembles. "Robin, I… I love you."_

 _"I know you do," he says, smiling as he reaches out to caress her cheek. "And I love you. I just… I think you might love Mal, too. I think you might be falling_ in love _with Mal."_

 _"I…I'm sorry," she murmurs in a barely audible voice. "I don't know why I–"_

 _"I think I might be falling for her, too." Regina's eyes widen–and he laughs softly and shakes his head–this is easier than he thought it'd be to admit and he's encouraged when doesn't see even the slightest amount of hurt in her eyes. "No, I… I know that I am."_

 _"Wow," she breathes out, smiling awkwardly as she swallows hard._

 _"Yeah…"_

 _"We can't… I mean…" Regina stops and looks up at him. "I don't want to lose her, but I… I don't want…"_

 _"You won't lose me," he cuts in as he pulls her into a hug. "You'll never lose me."_

 _"I thought I'd get over it," she whispers. "I thought it was just… a crush." Blinking up at his she shrugs her shoulders. "I've always been attracted to other women, but I've… never actually… met someone who I…" Her cheek flush as she bites down on her lip. "It's kind of…"_

 _"New and exciting?" He asks as her voice trails off as he rubs his hand over her back. I think so, too."_

 _She laughs softly and momentarily, relief washes over her–then, just as quickly, her expression turns serious. "She can't know about this."_

 _He draws in a breath, thinking of Mal and the way she acts around them–the flirtiness and the soft touches, the way her eyes linger when she thinks they aren't looking and the way she flushes when she realizes she's been caught. "You… you don't think she might be feeling the same way?"_

 _Her brows and her eyes are wide, and he watches as she consider it. "I don't know. I hadn't–" She's interrupted by a familiar knock at their door–and he swallows hard. It's Mal, and she's right on time. Regina's hands are still trembling as she pushes the tears from her eyes and draws in a deep breath. "We'll talk about this later, okay?"_

 _"Okay," he says as they both push out of the kitchen to invite in Mal–and as soon as the door is open, Mal falls into Regina's arms, and he watches the way she nuzzles her shoulder, and a soft smile edges onto his lips as he watches Regina comfort her._

 _She and Regina settle on the couch and he opens up the wine she brought to go with dinner, pouring it into three glasses as Mal explains the details of a fight she had with her mother–and his heart beats a little faster as she admits to them that she doesn't want to marry her fiance, Stefan, but knows it's not actually her choice to make._

 _And, then as he sits down beside them, handing them each glass, as Mal goes on to say that she doesn't love Stefan and even the thought of spending a lifetime with him is too difficult to consider–and her hand slides over his thigh as she rests her head on his shoulder. He can't help but notice the way Regina reacts, her eyes widening as if she's finally seeing what's been right in front of her all along–and a little grin edges onto her lips as their eyes meet momentarily before she cuddles into Mal's other side to comfort her._

She'd spent the rest of the morning sitting at her desk in a fog. Her thoughts kept swirling around memories of her and Robin and Mal, an she found herself thinking about things she hadn't allowed herself to remember in nearly a decade. They were happy–all three of them–and even now, she couldn't see it coming.

Mal seemed to think that what they had couldn't have lasted–that she and Robin would have eventually come to realized a life without her would be neater. Of course, the fact that they'd just gone on with their lives seemed to support that notion–and while Mal had been living in a literal hell, they'd started their careers and gotten married, they'd started a family and opened their own firm, and to most, it seemed they'd found a way to have it all.

Their friends often commented about how _lucky_ they were and how they felt so _envious_ of the life they'd built for themselves–two beautiful sons, a healthy work-life balance that _allowed_ Regina enough independence to practice law, disposable income that allowed them vacations and very comfortable life–but for them, something had always been missing. They didn't talk about it very often–and as the years passed they talked about it less and less–and though she didn't like to admit it, it didn't have to be the way that it was.

They said that Mal had just disappeared from their lives, but that wasn't entirely true. It was true that she'd left and that it was unexpected, it was true that she'd married a man she didn't love and cut off all ties to them–but it wasn't like they didn't know where she was. It wasn't like they didn't know exactly where she was. They knew that she and Stefan lived in an East River Villa on the Upper East Side. She attended charity events and political fundraisers that were widely covered by the papers. She regularly dined with powerful families like the Kennedys and the Dukes, and it seemed wherever she went, a photographer followed. It'd have been easy enough to see her in person–and she doubts Mal would have had the heart to turn down an invitation to lunch or would have turned the other way if they'd run into her while shopping on Fifth Avenue.

But they hadn't tried–they'd been too stubborn and proud, too broken-hearted to reach out. So they didn't; they'd just let her go, and now, here they were…

By the time noon rolls around, she's in an elevator on her way up to Mal's suite.

On the short ride over she'd planned out their day–and though she expected a little resistance from Mal, she wasn't taking no for answer.

She knocks just once before Mal opens the door, still wearing the nightgown from the night before–and she finds herself bristling at how easily accessible Mal is to the rest of the world. Anyone could have been standing at the door…

"You didn't have to come here," Mal says as she closes the door behind Regina. "I'm–"

"Fine," Regina cuts in, a little smile curling onto her lips. "You told me that about a hundred times before I left this morning."

"And you clearly don't believe me."

Regina's eyes widen as Mal folds her arms over her chest and arches her brow–and that makes her smile. Today, there seems to be a little more life in her, a bit more of the spunk she's used to–but still, her eyes are sunken in and she looks so frail, like she could break at any moment–and all she wants to do is take care of her. "I'd feel a lot better if you didn't just open the door to any–"

"To you," Mal cuts in. "I opened the door to you, Regina."

She blinks. "And how did you know that? Hmm? You didn't ask and there's not a–"

"Regina, you told me you were coming over for lunch." A little pouty grin pulls onto Mal's lips. "Even though I told you that wasn't necessary."

She shrugs. "I wanted to see you."

"I'm okay, Regina. Really, I am. I swear it," Mal says, tentatively reaching for her hand. "You don't have to worry about me."

Her eyes roll and she rubs her thumb against the back of her wrist–and she wants to believe her. She wants to believe that Mal isn't beating herself up over what happened, that there's not some part of her that thinks she deserves whatever's to come, that years of obvious abuse hadn't taken their toll. But she can't ignore that the bed isn't made and the curtains are still drawn, that Mal still isn't' dressed for the day and clearly had no intention of going out into the world or that she's hiding from it.

"You're already doing so much to help me."

Regina's eyes narrow and her thumb presses a bit harder into Mal's wrist. "As your lawyer, sure," she tells her. "But what am I doing as your friend?"

"You don't have to–"

"Be your friend?" Regina scoffs. "Well, you're about thirteen years too late for that."

A sad little smile edges onto Mal's lops as she looks down at her hand, watching as Regina's thumb rubs circles at the base of her palm. "Is that what we were?"

"We were always friends, Mal. Even when it was more than that."

"And what about now? I don't exactly… fit."

"You fit," Regina says easily. "You always did."

"Regina, I'm–"

"I'm serious," she cuts in. "I've been a shitty friend to you, and the biggest regret I have is that I just let you walk out of my life." She pauses. "And Robin feels the same way. He misses you, too."

Mal nods and again, she looks down at Regina's hand holding onto her wrist. "Does Robin know that you're here?"

"He does."

"Was he upset about last night?"

"Not because I was here with you," she tells her. "He was just upset that I didn't call and…" She sighs and looks up at her. "We talked this morning, and we think that you should come and stay with us."

"Stay with you," Mal says, blinking as her eyes meet Regina's. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not? You shouldn't be alone and–"

"It'd be too hard," Mal admits in a quiet voice. "Being with the two of you again, but not… _with_ you. That's why I left. I couldn't be just your friend, but we couldn't be lovers anymore, either."

"Why not?" She asks again. "We were good together, all three of us, and–"

"It wouldn't have worked in the long run."

"Says who?" Regna asks, shrugging her shoulders. "Look, I'm not saying anything has to happen between us. I'm not saying you have to move into our bedroom, but I'm also not saying that your can't. We just… we just want to make sure that you're okay. We want to take care of you and…" She sighs, and momentarily, her eyes press closed. "We have a guest room that we just remodeled. It has a fireplace, and its own radio, and a view of the the garden Henry and Roland planted this spring, and… I think Robin and I would both sleep a lot better if you were there and not here, where anyone could find you."

Mal swallows. "Anyone meaning Leo."

Regina nods. "Robin and I both have a copy of the police report and–"

"I can only imagine what he said," she says, looking away and shaking her head. "He's always hated me."

"And right now, you're an easy target."

"The hotel has security."

"Are they really going to stop one of the co-owners from going anywhere he pleases."

She blinks, shifting on her feet as she looks away. "So, it is him calling?"

"I think so," Regina says, her eyes shifting to the phone, its reciever still sitting on the nightstand, off it's cradle. "Have you gotten any more calls?"

"No, but I haven't hung up the phone." Her eyes widen a little as she looks back to Regina–and again, that terrified look she'd had the night before is settled in her eyes as her hand starts to tremble. "You don't think he'd… come here or…"

"I don't know," Regina murmurs as her voice trails off. "But I also don't want to find out."

Mal draws in a breath. "So, your guest room has a nice view?"

Regina nods. "It's not the Manhattan skyline that this place offers, but Roland insisted on planting sunflowers and Henry's tomato plants are growing quite nicely…and quickly."

"I'm still not convinced this is a good idea. Robin's the prosecuting attorney and I'm sure that having the person he's prosecuting living under his roof isn't ideal."

"He wants you with us, too, Mal."

"And your kids are at camp, you said?"

Regina nods. "Even if they weren't, it wouldn't change anything. We'd still want you there."

Mal's head tips to the side. "I'm sure you'd love to explain to your children why you've brought a murderer–"

"No," Regina cuts in. "Don't say that."

"I murdered my husband, Regina."

"There's something called justifiable homicide," she counters, giving Mal's hand a tight squeeze as her eyes fall to the floor. "What you did wasn't murder. It was self-defense."

"I'm not sure that most would agree."

"I am," Regina says, grinning gently as she looks back to her. "And I intend to prove to it." Taking a breath she gives her hand another squeeze and then lets it go. "Now, get dressed and pack up," she tells her. "We have plans."

"We do?"

"Yes," Regina nods. "I'm taking you to lunch."

"Oh, I don't think I should–"

"Mal, there's no reason you need to hide away from the world." She smiles as a little grin tugs up at the corner of Mal's mouth. "Do you need help packing?"

"No, I… didn't actually bring anything. I just have what I'm wearing and the outfit I wore yesterday. I can be ready in ten minutes."

"Do you want to go back to–"

"No," Mal says, cutting in as her voice rises over Regina's. "I can't go back to that house."

"Okay," Regina replies easily. "How about this, then? We'll have lunch at Macy's and do a little shopping, then we'll go to Elizabeth Arden for facials and then we'll go home." She grins. "I think Robin said something about making dinner tonight, and I promise it's not that awful chicken salad I made and complained about yesterday."

"My accounts are frozen. Everything was joined when Stefan and I married. And I can't bring myself to ask my father for–"

"This is on me," Regina insists.

"Oh, I couldn't let you–"

"I want to," she says easily. "Robin and I both do."

For a moment, Mal doesn't respond–and for a second, she fears that Mal won't agree. But then, she nods and she smiles–and then she leans in and presses a soft kiss to Regina's cheek, whispering her thanks before retreating into the the bathroom to get dressed for the day.

 _"I'm sorry," Mal breathes out as she pushes away from them both, rising to her feet and taking a long sip of her wine. "I really didn't mean to fall apart on either of you that way."_

 _"Don't apologize," Robin says. "I… can't imagine what it'd be like to be forced into a marriage."_

 _Nodding, she turns back to them. They're such a beautiful couple–and both them were so sweet and sincere. She doesn't really know when it happened–and it probably was always there to some degree–but little by little over the course of the last couple of months she'd been falling in love with them._

 _Them._

 _Not him, not her–them._

 _It hadn't bothered her that her parents had chosen her husband of her–it hadn't bothered her that the man she was marrying didn't love her because she hadn't realized what she was missing. She'd never been in love–and long ago, she knew that she'd never have the sort of live she wanted, so she'd sworn it off, accepting what she couldn't have. Sure, she had flings here and there–mostly drunken nights with other women that were never spoken of the following morning, and on the rare occasions that she found herself in a place where no one knew her, she'd pretend to be someone else and seek out a one night stand with a soldier or a sailor she'd never see again, and of course, there'd been that couple she'd spent a summer with in Newport…_

 _But the more time she spent with Robin and Regina, she saw much more plainly what she lacked with Stefan, what she could never have because of him, and for the first time she found herself yearning for something that was more than just a casual fling. They made her feel safe and cared for, and they made her feel things that Stefan could never make her feel. When she was with the two of them she felt herself–she felt accepted and genuinely happy._

 _But they weren't hers; they had each other–and if they knew the things she privately found herself thinking about, she'd surely lose them…_

 _"So, what happened?" Regina asks. "Something had to have happened."_

 _Mal nods and sits on the arm of the chair across from them. "It wasn't… anything, really. Just…" She takes a deep breath and looks to them, watching the way they watch her with empathetic eyes. "I told you two that my father was hosting a fundraiser, right?"_

 _"A benefit for the troops," Regina's quick to say. "He made you wear that red, white and blue dress you hate." A little smile tugs onto her lips. "You said it was important to him to make sure that everyone knew where your family stood."_

 _Robin nods, "Because of your German roots."_

 _"Right," she murmurs as she nods. "Well, at the end of the night I was taking off my makeup and Stefan was still there. He'd had a lot of drink, so he was staying the night and I started talking about those refugees that were turned away in the thirties, and how things might have been different had they been allowed to stay." She watches as they both nod. "And he just… started laughing."_

 _"What?"_

 _"Why?"_

 _She shrugs. "He told me I was too pretty to have an opinion."_

 _"Asshole," Regina murmurs, her eyes wide and indignant._

 _Mal nods. "And so we got into this huge fight and he told me that when we married, I'd have to learn to keep my mouth shut." She watches as Robin's jaw tightens and he scoffs. "So, he went to bed and so did I, and in the morning I told my mother I didn't think I could marry him."_

 _"And… that's when you told her you didn't love him?"_

 _She nods. "Yeah, and she told me that she didn't care. She told me that love and marriage don't have to go together." She watches as Robin and Regina exchange looks–and she can't quite read them. "They're just… selling me off to the highest bidder for the sake of their empire."_

 _"Your feelings be damned."_

 _"Yeah," she murmurs as she looks to Regina. "My feelings don't matter."_

 _Again, she watches as they exchange looks, holding each other's gaze for a long time–and again, she can't quite read them._

 _"So, essentially, what it boils down to," Regina begins as her eyes shift back to her. "Is that you're being signed up to spend the rest of your life in a loveless marriage and you don't want that."_

 _She nods. "That's about the size of it."_

 _"Stefan knows this and–"_

 _"And everyone knows it," she sighs. "He and I barely tolerate each other. The only reason we're getting married is because our fathers are friends. They're business partners and, if we marry, the business stays intact once… well… once they're gone."_

 _"That's… quite a heavy burden."_

 _"It is."_

 _"And Stefan is… just okay with this?"_

 _She shrugs as she looks between them. "He doesn't want to split the money and he gets what he wants out of the relationship."_

 _Regina's eyes narrow. "Which is…?"_

 _"Sex and control."_

 _Robin bristles as his eyes shift from her to Regina and then back again. "Two things that probably shouldn't go together."_

 _""No," Regina murmurs. "And you get… nothing?"_

 _"I get lucky when he's too drunk to want to have sex with me… which… is actually pretty frequent." It's supposed to be a joke, but no one laughs, not even her–and instead, she finds tears welling back up in her eyes. "It's like a life sentence."_

 _"It's not fair," Regina murmurs. "Mal, I'm…" She sighs and again, her eyes shift to Robin and gives him that indescribable look. "I don't even know what to say." She blinks and looks back to her. "So, you're just… stuck."_

 _"I am."_

 _"Well, no," Robin murmurs. "You have friends. You have us." She grins and nods–and her chest tightens a little. She does have them, just not in the way that she wants them. "And, you know… there are plenty of people in unhappy relationships that have someone on the side."_

 _"Multiple people, even," Regina adds, her cheeks flushing in a way that seems uncharacteristic. "I just mean…"_

 _"I could have affairs," Mal cuts in as Regina's voice trails off. "I get it, I just… it' dbe nice to have someone who… loved me. And I don't really know how I'd go about that, you know? I mean, with the exception of the two of you, I–" She stops as her chest tightens and her cheeks flush at the implication that's likely only obvious to her. "I just mean, I wouldn't know how to go about it. Outside of the two of you, I don't even have friends."_

 _"People love you, Mal."_

 _"I don't know. People like what I can give them, and now I'm adding sex to that? It just seems… icky." She shrugs and looks between them. "Sure, I can just find people who want to have a fling here and there because I'm bored in my relationship and flings can be fun, but… what if I don't wnat that. What if I want more than that from someone? What if I want something that's… not just sex, something real and…" Her voice trails off and she looks between them. "I want what you two have… the closeness and intimacy."_

 _"And you don't get that with a fling," Regina says, looking to Robin._

 _"No, you don't," she sighs, swallowing hard as she draws in a breath and presses her eyes closed. "I'm sorry. Tonight was supposed to be fun and I'm just… ruining it with my sob story."_

 _"You're not ruining anything," Robin tells her–and suddenly, she feels him beside her. Her eyes open in time to see him smile warmly as his arm folds around her and it takes everything in her not to kiss him–and then a feeling of guilt consumes her as her eyes move to Regina. She watches her for a moment–watching the way she watches her and Robin–and again, she can't quite pinpoint what it is that she's thinking. "Why don't we all go out tonight?"_

 _"What?' She murmurs, looking back to Robin. "No, you two went to all the trouble make–"_

 _"We can keep it warm in one of Granny's ovens," Regina cuts in. "And if it goes bad, oh well."_

 _"I don't want you to waste–"_

 _"We'll go to a movie," Robin decides. "Get burgers and shakes afterward."_

 _"It'll be fun and it'll take your mind off of things for awhile._

 _A little grin edges onto her lips as she looks between them. "It's already after seven, I…"_

 _"Can stay the night," Regina insits. "We'll pick up some beer on the way back here, and you can vent or ignore it entirely, or we can put on a record and get stupidly drunk."_

 _"Yeah, we'll make a night of it," Robin say, squeezing her into his side as he presses a quick and fleeting innocent kiss to her hair. "I'll go clean up the kitchen," he says, pointing to the newspaper on the end table. "And you two can pick a movie."_

 _Mal nods and watches him go and before she can even fully exhale, Regina's at her side with the paper, resting her head on her shoulder as she reads the listings aloud._

 _And finds herself desperately wishing that_ they _could be her someone on the side–and she desperately wishes that there was a way for her to voice that that wouldn't mean destroy their friendship._

Robin lifts the lid from the dutch oven and breathes in at savory smell of the lamb shanks simmering in port wine. There was a hint of rosemary and a hint of sweet honey and it reminded him of the sort recipe he and Mal and Regina would have made in the tiny kitchen of the apartment they lived in during law school.

It seemed a little crazy though to have taken an afternoon off work to prepare a dinner for the three of them and he continually had to remind himself not to get too far ahead, that this didn't mean they were picking up where they left off and Mal hadn't really come back to them on her own accord–but here he was, in the middle of making port braise lamb and roasting potatoes and vegetables, lost in memories of all the dinners he and Regina spent with Mal.

He hadn't let himself remember those days in years–he hadn't let himself remember how happy they'd been or how cozy and content they'd felt, tucked away in the tiny apartment above Granny's and he hadn't let himself remember her laugh or her smile or the way her blue eyes would shine a bit mischievously as she leaned in to steal a kiss in the middle of a perfectly mundane moment.

For too long, it had been too painful, and eventually those memories had to be tucked away–but now, those memories were all he could think of…

He grins as he tucks the dutch oven back into the oven and turns to the cutting board, slicing up bell peppers as he thinks back to an evening they spent with Mal. As always, he did most of the cooking–but of the three of them, he enjoyed it most. Mal and Regina helped, but they were often easily distracted.

He can remember one warm summer day that they'd wanted something quick before going to an art show in the park, and something that would leave enough leftovers to snack on when they returned well past the time that Granny's closed for business. He'd been slicing up a meatloaf to make into sandwiches–and Mal and Regina were finishing up the cold tuna noodle salad. His grin warms as he remembers Regina pulling herself up onto the counter beside the bowl and plucking a little broccoli florette from the salad. Her legs hooked around Mal's hips and Mal laughed softly as Regina pulled her in, draping one arm over her shoulder as soon as she was close enough. She traced the broccoli over Mal's lips, biting down on her own lip as Mal licked the dressing away and then, they both laughed out as Mal's teeth clamped down on the broccoli, stealing it away from Regina–and then her hands found Regina's hips, pulling her to the edge of the counter as she leaned in to kiss her.

He'd smiled and continues slicing the moment, enjoying watching them have their little moment together.

He'd enjoyed those moments–the ones spent in that little apartment–where they didn't have to wonder who was watching or think about their every action. There, in their apartment, it didn't matter who they touched or how, it didn't matter who they kissed or when and nothing needed to be kept a secret.

The sound of the lock turning brought him back into the present moment–and his heart fluttered and his stomach sank as he heard Mal's voice. It was quickly followed by Regina's, and then he heard them start up the stairs and he wondered if he should interrupt and say hello–or if that would be awkward and uncomfortable or–

He stops the thoughts swirling around in his head, reaching for the butter dish and slicing s few squares to drop on the the pan between the red potatoes and asparagus spears. He pops them into the oven underneath the dutch oven and spins the timer, closing the oven as he wipes his hands on the dish cloth–and then, he starts toward the stairs, his heart fluttering still, and the knot in his stomach tightening.

He can hear them talking and he can hear the rustling of bags and tissue paper–an indication that they went shopping that afternoon. He stops just out of sight, listening as Regina shows her around the room. He opens the closet door and then one to the adjoining bathroom, telling her there should be fresh towels and plenty of soap and shampoo. He can see Regina pulling hangers from the closet and pointing to the drawers–and then, he spots Mal as she follows Regina, thanking her for what seemed like the umpteenth time as she hangs a couple of skirts in the closet.

His chest tightens as he watches her turn to Regina, smiling warmly but a little sadly as she takes a few blouses from her–and again, she tells her that none of this was necessary–and before she can even finish the statement, Regina cuts her off and insists that it was. He watches as Regina reaches for her hand, rubbing the back of her wrist her thumb as she reminds her that she was glad to do it.

Robin steps forward, his heart beating wildly with anticipation and a hundred other emotions–but he stops as Regina tugs her a little closer, and for a moment, it looks like she's going to kiss her–and he wonders if this is the sort of private moment that he shouldn't interrupt.

But Mal pulls back and turns away, turning to the bed as she opens a box and lifts a pajama set from it. Regina's shoulders fall as she directs her to the dresser, and they leave his line of sight–and he feels the strongest sense of loss, and finally he steps into the room. For a moment, he's rooted in place, still unnoticed and still out of sight as he watches Regina hand Mal a silky white nightgown–and he can't help but grin as Mal rolls her eyes as she takes it from her.

"I don't even know why I bought this," Mal says, offering Regina a sheepish little smile. "Or, well… why I let you buy it for me."

"Because you liked it," Regina says simply. "And because you _need_ it."

"Need?" Mal asks, cocking an eyebrow as she looks up from the nightgown. "I don't know about that."

"You can't just have _one_ pair of pajamas."

"But this is… closer to lingerie than it is to pajamas."

Regina shrugs. "So what? It's so soft and you looked so pretty in it." A grin tugs up at his lips when Regina's cheeks flush slightly. "And you felt good wearing it, right?"

Mal nods and looks away from Regina, rubbing her fingers against the fabric. "I did."

"You deserve to feel good about yourself," Regina tells her, her voice soft and gentle. "And if a nightgown does that for you, then so be it."

Mal nods, looking up at Regina for a quick moment before turning to the draw and tucking the nightgown in beside the pair of more sensible pajamas as he shifts forward–and suddenly, she catches a glimpse of in him the mirror.

Her shoulders stiffen as she stands up a little straighter as he moves closer, and in the mirror she watches him come nearer. Regina turns to look at him, smiling softly as she nods to him encouragingly.

"Hi, Mal," he says simply, his heart beating faster and faster as she turns to face him.

"Hi," she murmurs back, her eyes filling with tears as they meet his. "It's, um… it's good to see you again." 

He nods. "I wish it were under different circumstances, but… it's good to see you, too."

"Yeah," she nods. "Me, too."

"I'm glad you're here, though."

She nods. "I am, too."

He takes a step forward and then another–and finally, when he reaches her, he pulls her into a hug. His arms fold around her and she lets him hold her, slowly her arms fold around his back and her head rests in his shoulder. They stand like that for awhile and he can feel her melting into the embrace–and it feel so good to hold her again as all the emotion he refused to let himself feel for all those years they'd be apart comes rushing back to him.

Before he's ready to pull away, the oven time rings out–and he sighs as he takes a regretful step back.

"I've got it," Regina says before he can pull away from Mal. "You two stay here and… get reacquainted with each other."

Mal's cheeks flush slight as she looks between them, watching as Regina steps away from the dresser, rubbing her hand over Mal's back and pressing a quick kiss to his lips before disappearing into the hallway, leaving them alone together.

He takes another step back as he reaches for Mal's hand–and suddenly, he's at a loss for words. Every now and then he'd caught himself thinking about a moment like this, thinking about what he'd say if he ever saw Mal again, but now that she's there in front of him, he can't remember a single thing he'd planned to say.

"I'm sorry about all of this," Mal says, her voice filling the silence between them. "Regina keeps saying that this is okay and I'm not imposing, but I know that I am."

"You're not," he counters. "Regina and I both wanted you here."

She nods. "But it's not exactly something that you planned for, is it?"

"Well, no," he admits. "But still, you're not imposing. We have the space and–"

"Maybe in the house," Mal cuts in, turning her eyes up to meet his. "But I've just sort of wedged myself back into your lives and I really never meant to do that."

He swallows. "What if we wanted you to?"

"You're sweet," she tells him as a faint little smile tugs onto her lips. "But I've completely turned your life upside down. I just dropped in and, now I'm here and–" She stops and takes a breath as his fingers push down between hers, and her eyes sink closed momentarily. "Robin," she says. "I… want you to do your job."

"My job…"

She nods and as her eyes open. "Don't do anything stupid because… it's me."

He takes a breath–he hadn't quite expected that, and he's not sure how to respond. "Mal, you shouldn't–"

"This is your first case as an Assistant District Attorney–and though I don't know him personally, I know a lot of the people who supported him and–"

"Why don't you let me worry about my job," he cuts in, as he tugs her toward the bed and sits down at the edge. "And I can only argue what the evidence shows and, even though its early, it's looking pretty clear that my obvious conflict of interest isn't going to be what loses this case." 

"If you lose it."

"Mal…"

"It's just… it's not your fault I murdered my husband."

"You… probably shouldn't say that to me," he says, watching as she fidgets nervously with her fingers.

"I probably shouldn't have gone to Regina for help with this. It's–"

"I'm glad that you did."

"I didn't really think it through though. I knew you'd just become a prosecutor, and–"

He shakes his head. "The likelihood of me being the the one who actually got assigned this case was–"

"One in five," she says plainly. "And I could have just let my family's attorneys handle it. I'm sure a murder trial would have been a thrilling change after years and years of looking over contracts and moving money around and whatever other boring tasks fall to him."

"But you wanted her."

She nods. "I did. I… do," she sighs. "I trust her and I'm sure that … certain things are going to come out about me, and I just… wanted someone who knew me better than that."

"You can trust me, too," he tells her. "I won't let this turn into an assassination of your character."

"Even though I am the one on trial."

"Again," he says. "I can only argue what the evidence shows, and right now, I'm struggling to even make a case for the state."

She blinks. "So, you… think this might not even go to trial?"

"That's possible," he admits. "If the evidence isn't there, then…"

"No," she sighs "The Perraults would never let that happen. They would never stand for that. They won't be content until I'm locked away and preferably on death row."

"Well, it's a good thing that it's not up to them." She looks at him, but she doesn't respond–and he can tell she has less faith in the system than he does, and she knows better than anyone just how much sway a family like the Perraults have. He swallows and draws in a breath, then musters a smile. "But, um… like I said, we probably shouldn't be talking about this." She nods and again, he tries again to make her smile. "At least not without your lawyer present."

"Speaking of my lawyer… Regina alone in the kitchen usually isn't a good thing," Mal says, a little grin edging its way onto her lips. "Or at least is never used to be."

"It still isn't, unless it involves apples or lasagna."

"Some things never change."

"No," he murmurs softly as he looks at her. "Some things don't."

"So, um… what's for dinner?" She asks, shifting herself on the bed to look at him. "Regina said that you were going to make something."

"Lamb," he tells her. "Port braised lamb, potatoes, asparagus and a greek salad I've yet to make." He clear his throat. "Do you want to… come down and help?"

"Like we used to?"

"Yeah."

Mal nods and he helps her up from the bed–and together they walk down to the kitchen, and he grins as she laughs softly at the sight of Regina at the cutting board, slicing up a few red apples.

"What?" Regina asks, looking up as they both chuckle. "You two spend fifteen minutes together after more than a decade apart, and you're _already_ teasing me?"

"It's just… the apples," Robin murmurs ashe chokes back a laugh. "What are you doing with them?"

"Well, I wasn't sure how to make the dressing or what things are meant for that or the actual salad, so I thought I'd make desert." She scoops up the apple slices and drops them into a bowl. "Unless you have something else in mind."

"No, I just… of course, you're making something _apple_."

She shrugs and looks up at them, her brown eyes wide. "Well, it's not like lasagna goes with lamb."

He and Mal exchange glances–and then, at the same time, they can't hold back their laughter any more. Regina's eyes roll, but she grins, nonetheless–and they fall into an easily familiar pattern in the kitchen as they finish preparing the meal.

When it's ready, Regina slips her pie into the oven as he and Mal plate the food and pour the wine–and they settle in the dining room, spending the rest of the evening talking about safer topics than Mal's current predicament and pending fate. They reminisce about the pastries that Granny used to make and how on cold winter days they all still have cravings for her clam chowder and her chili. They talk a little bit about Henry and Roland–and Regina laments that the boys still haven't written, while he comforts her assuring her that that's a good sign, and that they're probably having the time of their lives.

When dinner is done, they clear away the plates, Regina cuts the pie and they move into the living room. He and Regina sit together on the couch and Mal sits beside them in an armchair, her feet curled underneath her as she asks question after indulgent question about their sons–and she seems to hang on their every gushing word.

After dessert they have more wine, and he see Mal's eyes getting heavy–and not long after that, she excuses herself to go up to bed, and again, she thanks them unnecessarily for dinner and allowing her to stay with them, and for distracting her for awhile

"I'm glad you brought her back here," Robin says. "Tonight was nice… in spite of the situation."

"It was nice," Regina agreeress as she nuzzles closer, then turns her eyes up to meet his. "I… really wanted to kiss her goodnight."

He nods. "So did I."

"She's… not there yet though."

"Well, she has a lot on her mind and, no matter how easily it was to fall into old rhythms tonight, it has been a long time."

Regina nods as her head falls to his shoulder. "I keep wanting to… let it be like it was before.'

"Me too," he admits. "But I think she's going to need some time."

"If that's even what she still wants."

"Right."

"And I don't want her to feel obligated to or do something she regrets or…" Her voice trails off and she draws in a breath. "She's just so vulnerable though."

"So, you're saying that you… would still want…" His voice trails off as she looks up at him, biting down on her lip as she waits for him to say it. "You'd want the three of us to… be the way we were."

"Don't you?"

"I never stopped wanting that," he admits. "But it's not up to us. She's the one who walked away."

"And she's the one who came back."

"Yeah," he murmurs as Regina cuddles closer to him. "She is back. Maybe it doesn't matter why."

"And if she just wants to be friends then, that's… fine."

"Yeah," he murmurs again, pressing a quick kiss to her hair as his arm tightens around her. "Every time I let myself think about what it would be like to have her in our lives again, I never thought it'd be like this, but now that she is back in our lives, I… can't help but want her in whatever she'll let us have her."

"I know," Regina murmurs with a nod. "When we were shopping today, I went in the fitting room with her because she wanted opinions and–" She sighs. "And as I was sitting there, we… we tried to make it fun to take her mind off of the reason we were actually shopping. I had her spinning around and trying on different jackets with different shirts and we had a little fashion show, the way we used to and… there were so many time i just wanted to pulling her in and kiss her and…" She blinks as she looks up at him and he finds himself thinking about the moment he'd witnessed as they were hanging up the clothes. "Every time, she pulled away."

"She's scared. She's–"

"Oh, I know," she cuts in. "And it's been a long time. I don't even know if she still feels that way, but I… I just kept thinking that even if things could never be that way again, I was so glad to be there with her again that I… I didn't really care. I just… want her to be happy, even if that's not with us."

He nods and kisses her again–and though it's a sentiment that he shares, too, he finds himself hoping that those feelings will return for her, that they're there somewhere under the surface, and that when all is said and done, they can find a way to keep her in their lives because as wonderful as their life together is, it's always been missing something. They'd never quite admitted that to each other, but they both knew it and they both knew how to fix it–they'd simply been too stubborn and hurt to try.

And now that Mal was back in their lives, he wasn't sure that either of them could just let her go again–whatever that meant.

 _"Robin," Mal breathes out, her voice shaky and her eyes filling with tears. "I'm so sorry," she says. "Please don't be mad at her. It was my fault. I kissed her. She didn't–"_

 _"I'm not mad," he cuts in, his eyes shifting from Mal to Regina. "You didn't tell her?"_

 _"I didn't think you'd be back so quickly. I thought I'd have a little more time to… explain things."_

 _"Granny already left for the night, so I didn't have to do any schmoozing. I just took the cheesecake and–"_

 _"What?"_

 _Robin blinks as he looks to Mal, who's staring at him with wide, confused eyes and flushed cheeks. "I paid for it," he tells her with a shrug. "I left the money on the counter. Promise."_

 _"We do this all the time," Regina adds. "Whenever we–"_

 _"I'm not questioning the damn cheesecake," Mal cuts in. "I feel like I'm missing something pretty key to understand what the hell the two of you are talking about." She blinks, again looking between them. "And perhaps that would help me to understand why you kissed me and why you're okay with it."_

 _"I kissed you," Regina begins in a tentative voice. "Because I…have feelings for you."_

 _He watches as Mal's eyebrows arch. "And I'm okay with it because I do, too."_

 _"So, you… you've talked about this?"_

 _"We did," Robin admits. "We've been talking about it for awhile now."_

 _"A-about kissing me?" She asks as she looks between them, then slowly starts to sink down to the couch. "I… I think I need to sit down."_

 _"We weren't really sure how to bring it up," Regina tells her, slowly sinking down beside her. "But we're both attracted to you and we can't help but notice that… that you seem to be attracted to both of us, too. And we both… really care about you and…"_

 _Again, Mal's eyes widen. "I… I don't believe this."_

 _"Don't believe this as in…"_

 _"Look, Mal, if we go this wrong, just tell us and… we'll never speak of this again."_

 _"No," she murmurs in a barely audible voice as she looks to him. "You didn't." Slowly, he sinks down beside her, grinning as his eyes meet Regina's. "I just… I'm having trouble wrapping my head around how this is possible."_

 _"So, you're…" Regina's voice trails off and she takes a breath, obviously nervous and obviously not wanting to get ahead of herself. "You'd want to… see where this goes?"_

 _"And… what exactly would_ this _be?"_

 _"Well," Robin begins, taking a breath as his head spins–not quite able to wrap his head around the fact that it suddenly more than just an idea–and suddenly he feels at a loss for words. "We've been talking lately about the possibility of… opening up our relationship," he says, deciding to just start at the beginning._

 _"But we don't want just an open relationship," Regina adds. "We'd just want to open it to you, then close it back up again."_

 _"So, it's be… the three of us," she says, looking between them. "Romantically."_

 _Robin nods. "Or… combinations involving any of the three of us."_

 _Mal takes a breath. "I…feel like this is a good time to remind the two of you that even though it's not something I really want to do or enjoy doing, I am sleeping with Stefan." She shifts a bit awkwardly as she looks between them. "It's not often, but I… I don't want to give you the impression that… I can be completely faithful to either of you."_

 _"We're aware," Regina says. "And wouldn't want to do anything that would put you in a compromising situation."_

 _'So, you're… interested in… letting us be you_ someone on the side _?"_

 _At that, Mal chuckles softly and once more looks between them–and he sees a flicker of something he can't quite place in her eyes. "The two of you are actually serious about this."_

 _"We are."_

 _"So, you really want… me?"_

 _"We do," Regina says._

 _"And we could… keep this just between the three of us so that it could never find its way back to Stefan?"_

 _"It'll be our little secret."_

 _Finally a smile spreads across Mal's. "That's… kind of fun."_

 _"It is, isn't it?" Regina asks, giggling softly. "So, does this mean that you're interested?"_

 _Mal blinks. "I've been interested since the night we met."_

 _They all grin–and then an awkward silence falls between them and no one seems to know what to do or say next. They hadn't planned to tell her this way–they thought they'd be drunk, so that if it went poorly or she was offended or uninterested, they'd at least be able to blame it on the alcohol. But it hadn't gone poorly and no one was drunk–and he couldn't help but be glad for that, even if it was a little awkward._

 _"So, um… what comes next?" Mal asks as she bites down on her lips. "I suppose it's a bit too soon to just… hop into bed." She grins as she looks to Robin. "We haven't even kissed."_

 _Robin laughs softly and Regina nods. "It probably is. I mean, I know we've known each other for awhile, but… this is… this is different and…I don't really know where to… start."_

 _"So, we'll just…"_

 _"Try to get comfortable with each other," Mal says with a shrug, somehow feelings himself relax. "Maybe we could… talk a little more about what this will entail._

 _"We need to set some ground rules and… figure out what our expectations are."_

 _"Expectations," Mal murmurs. "You mean… sexually?"_

 _"And emotionally," Robin replies as he looks between them. "I just think it'd be helpful for us to all start off on the same page."_

 _"So this is… more than just a couple of threesomes here and there," Mal says slowly. "It's… more than that for you."_

 _Regina nods. "It'd be a relationship."_

 _"Between the three of us," Mal says slowly, obviously still a little taken aback as she looks between them for clarity. And then a little laugh escapes her. "Do you really think this will work? I mean… you two are so…right for each other. I wouldn't want to get in the way."_

 _"You wouldn't be in the way," Regina insists. "And, if you think about it, we've basically been dating you for months."_

 _"Yeah, I guess it has sort of felt that way," Mal admits as she turns to Regina. "Have you ever been with a woman?"_

 _Robin watches as Regina tense a little bit and then shakes her head. "No, but until Robin I'd never been with a man, either." She takes a breath. "Have you?"_

 _A throaty laugh escapes Mal. "Regina, I went to an all girls boarding school–even the girls who weren't into girls were into girls for ten months out of the year."_

 _Robin grins as Regina's brow arches. "She's a quick and eager learner though."_

 _He watches as Regina's eyes widen and her cheeks flush. "And I think I'll need some wine to go on with this conversation," Regina says, drawing in a breath. "And a fork for that cheesecake."_

 _Robin nods. "I can make both of those things happen."_

 _He grins at them both as he gets up and goes to the kitchen. He takes a minute to select a bottle of wine, quickly deciding on Riesling–partly because it'll pair well with the cheesecake and partly because it's an unopened bottle. He plucks a few forks and the corkscrew from the drawer and carefully grabs three wine glasses–and when he returns to the living room, Regain and Mal are once more kissing on the couch. Regina's hands on her face and he can Mal's tongue slipping into Regina's mouth–and for a moment, all he can do is stand there and watch and think about how beautiful the two of them are together._

 _Mal attempts to break the kiss as he sits down at her side, but Regina pulls her back–and he chuckles softly as he uncorks the wine, and he can't help but smile when Mal giggles into the kiss. And then, after he pours the wine, he settles back on the couch, rubbing his hand against Mal's back–and finally, when Regina allows her to pull away, she turns to him. Before he even realizes what's about to happen, she's kissing him._

 _One of her hands presses to his chest and the other rests softly on his jaw, her fingers rubbing absently at the stubble on his cheek. His chest flutters as his hands hold her hips, kissing her back and matching her intensity–and then she breaks the kiss. His eyes flutter open as she strokes his jaw, and he can still feel her warm breath on his lips–but she's not looking at him, she's looking at Regina._

 _"Come here," she murmurs in a low voice. "Join us."_

 _"I… don't know where to…"_

 _Mal smiles and her finger strokes down the crook of her heck. "Start here."_

 _He swallows hard as Regina tentatively moves toward them–and he grins as she presses her hand to his arm, biting down on her lip before leaning in to kiss Mal. Mal breathes out a low and encouraging moan as her head tilts back–and then, her eyes meet his as she pulls him back to her._

 _Mal pulls away, grinning as she pulls back as she looks between them, and as her eyes meet Regina's, she nods to Robin–and a moment later, Regina is kissing him and Mal lips are against his jaw and her tongue is flicking against his earlobe._

 _He can feel himself getting worked up–and it's not a surprise when Regina pulls away, breathlessly glancing down at his with an arched brow as a grin pulls onto her lips. Mal pulls away, too, looking between them and smiling as she leans back against the couch and draws in a breath in an effort to compose herself–and then, as they looks between each other, all flushed-faced and breathless, it's apparent to all of them that all enjoyed it, and there's no question that this is going to be the start of something incredible._

He doesn't expect to find her in the kitchen–and certainly not sitting on the counter top with her feet crossed in front of herself. Her long blonde hair is tucked over one shoulder and she's staring intently at a recipe card and the Polaroid paper clipped to it –and it's just one of many she's looked at.

"You gave us that idea, you know," he says, stepping into the kitchen and making his presence known.

Her eyes widen as she looks to him–and for a moment, there's a flicker of fear behind her eyes. "I'm sorry," she murmurs. "I shouldn't have been–"

"It's fine," he says, cutting her off before she can finish a completely unnecessary apology as he moves toward the counter and plucks one of the cards from the pile and grins down at a picture of Roland eating a homemade and over sized cinnamon roll. His eyes are wide and shining and even behind the cinnamon roll, his smile is obvious. "I am fairly certain," he begins, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the counter, "you took this _exact_ picture of Regina eating… some kind of pastry."

"An apple fritter–an apple fritter that she was so damn happy about it," Mal says, grinning as she looks to him. "And you're right, she had that exact expression–messy curly hair and all. He really is his mother's son."

Robin nods in agreement. "I am pretty certain the only gene he got from me is the Y chromosome."

"And your dimples."

"Okay. Two genes." He says, chuckling softly as he picks up another picture, smiling down at both of his sons holding sticks of celery smothered in peanut butter and dotted with raisins. They were so much littler then, and though he's not certain, the picture with the celery might have been the first they'd taken–and he can still vaguely remember teasing Regina that celery sticks and peanut butter hardly counted as a meal. The boys had both taken her side and he'd had no choice to concede and snap the polaroid as she scribbled down the "recipe" on the card. "Henry's always been much more of a blend," he says, looking up at Mal briefly before looking down at the picture of his missing-toothed son. "Sometimes I don't think he looks like either of us."

Mal's face falls as she looks to him-and for a moment, it looks like she's uncovered some great secret or–

Oh.

"Regina told you that we weren't always sure of Henry's paternity, didn't she?"

"I'm sorry," Mal nods. "I just… when you said…" Her voice trails off and she sighs as she looks away from him. "I shouldn't have brought it up."

"You didn't," he tells her, offering an easy shrug. "I brought it up–and apparently, so did Regina." He waits for her to look to him, and then he grins in an effort to let her know that he isn't upset and this isn't a touchy subject. "Which is odd because she and I haven't talked about that in… years."

Mal looks back to the card in her hands. "We were talking about, um, a rough patch you two went through after, um… after I left."

"Ah," he nods. "That was hard."

"I just never thought that it would be."

His brows arch. "We loved you."

"But you loved each other, too."

"We do," he nods. "And we never doubted that, it was just difficult to figure out what our relationship was supposed to look like without you. You were… such an integral part of it."

Her eyes shift up to him and his breath catches. "I just hate that I almost ruined what you to had."

"You didn't ruin our relationship and…" he draws in a breath and leans his elbows against the counter, picking up another recipe card with an attached picture of Henry in a pair of flannel pajamas, sipping a frothy cup of hot cocoa. "Our relationship wouldn't have been ruined even if Henry weren't biologically mine." He grins as he looks up at Mal. "I'd have been his father, no matter what."

"You'd… have been able to get over it?"

He nods. "It stung," he admits, remembering Regina's teary eyes as she told him she thought she was pregnant and the way she'd struggled against her tears when the doctor confirmed that she was. "The night be told me, we got into a big fight and even then, I knew that I'd forgive her." He shrugs. "I'm not even sure she'd have needed my forgiveness."

"Really?"

"I love her," he says simply. "And I know she didn't mean to hurt me. She made a mistake because she was drunk and heartbroken, and I could never hold that against her." He grins. "Besides, that pregnancy made us get our shit together and gave us something else to focus on." He watches as a grin tugs onto her lips, and then he looks back to the picture of Henry and his cocoa. "After awhile, I stopped even thinking about the possibility that he might not be my son."

"You could just… forget something like that?"

He nods, "And I told Regina has much."

"I'm sure that was a relief to her."

"It was," he admits. "She felt so guilty and though she never said it, I think she was worried that I wouldn't be able to go through with raising a child that wasn't biologically mine." He shrugs. "But I was there for her whole pregnancy. From that first heartbeat to the first time Regina felt him kick. I was there for all of the doctor's appointments and for all of Regina's weird pregnancy cravings. I was the one who rubbed her sore, swollen feet and held her hair back when she had morning sickness–which lasted until the very end of her–and I was with her when her water broke. There's no way I wouldn't have saw his as my own." He grins, shaking his head. "Her water breaking was quite a surprise, by the way, considering the doctor said she wasn't due for another month."

"Is that when you realized–"

Robin nods, chuckling softly. "Henry was either conceived a month before the doctor told us–which means he was conceived during a time when it was just the two of us–or he was the biggest premie in the history of preemies." Mal laughs softly and shakes her, and a burst of laughter escapes him. "He weighed over ten pounds, and it just so happens that he looks exactly like my mother."

A little grin pulls up onto Mal's lips and she looks down at the photograph between his fingers. "Well, regardless of who they look like, you and Regina certainly made two very beautiful babies."

"Well, I won't disagree with you there," he says, dropping the picture back into the pile as his eyes meet hers. "I am curious how this came up? Regina and I havent talked about it… in years."

"Oh," she breathes out. "She was… um… telling me about what it was like for the two of you after I left and–"

"It gutted us," he says, cutting in as her eyes fall. "And, as Regina obviously told you, we did some really stupid things." He can tell that she's feeling guilty–it's written all over her, from the way she hangs her head to the way her shoulders tense and the way her jaw tightens–and it make his chest ache. Slowly and a bit cautiously, he reaches for her hand, touching his fingers to her wrist. She flinches, but she doesn't pull away–and when his fingers curl loosely around her hand, and a little grin tugs up at the corner of his mouth when she looks back to him "We were lost without you."

"Yeah, Regina mentioned something like that."

Nodding he takes a breath. "Mal, why did you go? Why did you just… up and leave?"

"I had to," she admits in a small voice. "I just…. I couldn't stay."

"Why not?"

Her brows arch. "Robin. Come on."

"I'm serious, Mal. I can't think of a single reason that–"

"It couldn't have worked," she says, shrugging her shoulders as if it should be obvious. "It's a miracle it lasted as long as it did." His eyes widen incredulously and his lips part, but he can't seem to find his voice, so Mal continues. "You two were building a life–and you deserved to have a _normal_ life."

"A normal life," he repeats. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Her jaw tightens as tears well in her eyes. "The kind of life where you don't have a dirty little secret hiding in the bedroom."

He blinks. Her words sting–and though the wants to deny it there's an inkling of truth in them. It had never been intentional and that's certainly not what they'd considered her–but he could see how she'd draw that conclusion. Only one of their friends ever knew about their relationship with Mal–and it hadn't gone over well with him. For the most part though, they'd kept it a secret because of Mal's situation–her family couldn't know and her fiance most certainly couldn't–it was just safer that way. At times that had been thrilling, but at other times it'd been frustrating–and though it was never intentional and though they never wanted her to feel that way, Mal was always the odd one out.

Her name didn't appear on invitations next to theirs, people introduced her as their friend, and though she spent most of her time with them in their apartment, it was theirs, not hers–though they never said that and would have adamantly argued against it. When she was able to stay the night with them–which was a frequent occurrence–there was always some excuse she'd made to afford herself more time with them. No one knew where she really was or what she was doing.

It was all a secret.

But there'd been nothing dirty about it and no matter what secrets they were keeping, they loved her and they wanted her in their lives.

"Mal," he breathes out. "What … what changed though?"

"Everything." He swallows hard as she smiles at him, batting her eyes to stop her tears from falling. "You and Regina were starting a whole new life. You'd graduated and passed your exams, and you were looking for jobs." She shrugs. "There just wasn't room for me anymore."

"That's not true."

"Isn't it, though?"

"So, Regina and I had no say in this?"

Mal shakes her head and looks away, her eyes settling on his hand, still loosely folded around hers. "You'd both have chosen with your heart, not your head."

His eyes widen a little. "

"It's what was best"

"Mal, you can't possibly bel–"

"It's what was best," she says, her eyes widening as she looks back to him. "I have to believe that." Her jaw trembles a bit as she stares a thim. "Up until today, I was able to tell myself that was true. That everything that I–" Her voice halts and she takes a breath. "That it was all worth it, that everything that happened after the day I decided to leave was worth it because you and Regina were okay."

"Mal…"

"I had to believe that you were happy and–"

"We were," he tells her, his voice soft. "We were happy–and we are." He drags his fingers back and forth across the back of her wrist. "It's just, we could have been happier if we'd had you."

She nods as her eyes press closed and tears are forced out from the corners. He takes a step in and reaches for her, turning her on the countertop so that she's facing him–and then, he brushes her tears away with his thumbs.

"I'm sorry," she murmurs. "I shouldn't–"

"It's okay. You've got a lot going on right now and–"

"No," she cuts in. "I'm sorry that I hurt you and I'm sorry that I hurt Regina, but I didn't have a choice I–"

"What?" His head tips to the side. "What do you mean you didn't have a choice?" She hesitates, biting down on her lip and watching as he slowly realizes the decision wasn't entirely hers–though he hasn't quite figured out what that means. "Mal, if someone found out about us or–"

"It was for the best," she says in a small voice. "It'd have never worked out anyway."

"You keep saying that, but do you really believe it?"

She shrugs and a sad smile stretches over her lips. "I have to."

"Maybe Regina and I could have helped or–"

Mal shakes her head as his voice halts. "I don't think so but I love that you think you could have, or that you even wanted to."

"Of course I would have wanted to. Regina would have, too."

"And you are helping," she says with a sigh and a shrug. "Now, anyway."

Robin sighs and for a moment, he presses his eyes closed. There had to have been some clue that this was coming, some sign that she was having doubts and considering walking away from everything they had together–but there wasn't. He'd thought about it a thousand times, replaying those memories time and time again, but no matter what, at the end of it, he always felt as he'd been sucker punched–and the shock and pain never really lessened, no matter how much time had passed.

His eyes flutter open as Mal's hand ghost up his cheek. He swallows hard as he leans into her touch, bringing his own hand up over hers, and holding her against him and nuzzling against her–and then, as he looks to her, a little grin edges over her lips and she leans in, pressing her lips to his and kissing him softly. He can't help but respond, stepping in a little closer and momentarily losing himself in a kiss that's warm and familiar.

She was wrong, he finds himself thinking–they could have made this work.

And maybe they still could.


	2. Chapter 2

They'd planned everything in as much detail as they could–and the point of that had been to make them all more comfortable and less nervous. They agreed that Mal would come over around seven with Chinese takeout. They'd eat and have some wine, and then they'd go into the bedroom–and that's where the plan had ended.

And as she looked in the mirror, smoothing her hands over her crimson skirt, she can't help but be nervous about what was going to happen once they were all in bed together. She worried that she wouldn't measure up to the other women Mal had been with, that her lack of experience would be glaring and off-putting. She worried that someone would be left out or bored, or worse that one of them would have regrets when all was said and done.

She grins as Robin comes up behind her, hooking his arm around her waist and pulling her back against him. He presses a kiss to her cheek and then rests his chin on her shoulder.

"We don't have to do this," he says. "You can still back–"

"I want to."

"Good," he says, chuckling softly. "Because I really want to, too."

"I'm just… worried."

"About what? We've talked about this and planned every–"

Taking a breath, she turns and links her arms around his neck–then, slowly, she release it as his arms circle around her waist and he presses a kiss to her forehead. "What if I'm… not good at it."

He blinks. "You're… good at it."

"With you, maybe, but I've never…" Her eyes sink closed. "What if I'm not good for her?"

"Regina, relax."

"But I–"

Her voice halts as she hears the front door open, and then Mal calls out a sing-song hello and announces she has fried rice and egg rolls and is starving. She lets out a shaky breath as Robin again kisses her forehead again, then takes a step back, giving her hand a little tug before leading her out of their bedroom.

"Did you get started without me?" She asks, her brow arching as she sets the brown paper take-out bag onto the table, watching as they come out of the bedroom. "Because that's not fair."

Robin laughs as he leans in, offering her a quick kiss before she does the same–and then, for a moment, they all just stand there.

"You, um… you said there were egg rolls?"

Mal nods. "Yeah, and extra plum sauce." She laughs softly as Regina nods and looks to Robin as her lip catches between her teeth. "You're nervous."

"A little."

"I told her she doesn't have to be."

"He's right," Mal says, reaching for her hand. "This is going to be fun."

"I know it's supposed to be, but I just can't help but think–"

"Regina," Mal cuts in, chuckling softly as her eyes briefly shifting to Robin. "Stop over-thinking it. Relax."

"I just don't want to… disappoint you or–"

Her voice halts as Robin's hand presses to her back, and she turns to look at him, watching as a soft but slow smile edges onto his lips. He leans in and presses a fluttery kiss to her cheek as his hand slips around her waist–and she grins as Mal tips her chin back toward her, and leans in, pecking her lips once as her smile brightens, and then she leans in again. The next kiss is harder–she pulls her up against her, parting her lips with her tongue as her hand pushes into her hair. She's warm and she tastes like cinnamon–and it's so easy to get lost in the kiss, so easy to want to see where it leads, and to let it lead where it will. Her stomach flutters with anticipation as Robin steps in closer, his lips finding a spot on her neck, just below her earlobe, that drives her crazy–and as his hand ghosts down her back to her ass, her nerves begin to fade.

She feels Mal draw in a breath and then she pulls away as Robin lifts his head–and all she can do is stand there and pout. She wasn't ready for it to end.

"You know, suddenly, I'm not very hungry," Mal says, grinning as she looks between them. "I think I need to work up my appetite for a bit, if that's okay with the two of you."

"I could be okay with that," Robin says, his voice husky as he looks to her, watching as she nods in agreement. He takes Mal by the hand and tugs her toward him and Regina can't help but smile at the little grins they exchange–so soft yet full of excited anticipation–and as Mal's arm slides around her waist. "Come on," Robin says, taking another step back as the butterflies in her stomach start to flutter again. "I think we've waited long enough."

From there, everything happens so quickly–and so easily.

She and Robin both sit down on the edge of the bed, pulling Mal down between them. They all trade kisses and touches, and pull away clothing. As she pushes Mal's shirt off of her shoulders, she dots a few kisses along her bare shoulder, watching as Mal swallows hard and tilts her head back, giving her more access to her and letting her own eyes shift to Robin–and she watches as Mal's hand slips into his lap, rubbing him through his pants as Regina sucks harder at her neck.

They all take their time with each other–working slowly, teasing playful and keeping the mood light. They're all aware of the step they're taking–and they're all aware of that once the step is taken, they'll never be able to go back. And while that's terrifying, it's also exciting–and the closer they get to the point of no return, she comes to the realization that she wouldn't want to go back.

Taking a breath, she leans back against the pillows, watching as Mal kisses Robin, and watching as Robin unhooks her bra. He breaks the kiss long enough to watch as he slowly pulls away the lacy black bra–and she grins as Mal looks back at her from over her shoulder, offering a quick little wink as Robin leans back in. Regina grins back, biting down on her lip as she slips her hand into her satin panties, watching Robin trail quick kisses down Mal's throat, dipping lower to suck on one of her breasts as his hand kneads the other–and the last little bits of worry dissolves as she realizes how wet it makes her to see them together in this way.

Mal lets out a little sigh as she pulls away from Robin, pressing a quick kiss to his lips as she whispers something she can't quite hear–but whatever it is, it draws a broad grin onto Robin's lips as he shifts away from Mal and settles at her side.

Robin rolls onto his side, stroking his fingers over her arm and her hip as she turns, catching his lips between hers–and then, just as her tongue parts his lips, she feels Mal's hands sliding up her legs and parting her knees. Her eyes widen as she turns to watch Mal, her stomach fluttering and her heart beating faster and faster as Mal's hands caress her inner thighs as they trail upward–and her breath catches in her chest when Mal's long fingers hook into the waistband of her panties.

Mal grins as she swallows hard, biting down on her lip and unable to look away as she peels the panties down her legs–and again, her stomach flutters with nervous anticipation as Mal settles herself between her legs, pushing them further apart.

She hears Robin mutter something in a low, husky voice–and when she turns to look at him, she can't help but laugh softly. He's watching them intently as if his greatest fantasy is about to be realized–and the anticipation of it is driving him mad. His boxer shorts are down and still tangled around his ankles, and he's stroking himself–and it seems he's going at a painfully slow pace in hopes of pacing himself for what is bound to be a long and exciting evening.

And then, she feels Mal's breath on her–and a little chill runs down her spine, her stomach once again fluttering as her heart beats wildly. Mal's tongue first slips against her, she shudders softly, her jaw clenching and a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth as Mal continues to lick and suck and make her squirm–and every time her tongue flicks against her clit or her lips form around it, it takes everything in her not to explode right then and there. But if she let that happen, she realizes, this might come to an end–and she's not at all ready for Mal to be done with her–and as she grits her teeth and grasps at the sheet beneath herself, comforted by the thought that this is just one of many nights to come for them.

She moans softly as Mal's finger slowly slips inside of her–and then beside her, she hears Robin draw in a breath as a low oh, fuck escapes him. Turning her head on the pillows she grins at him and when he leans in to kiss her, her hand replaces his on his cock–and for awhile, she thinks they've found a perfectly blissful rhythm.

An orgasm rips through her–rippling through her core and making her whole body shudder, and Mal is only more encouraged by it. She continues to lick and suck as her fingers drag slowly through the sleekness between her legs, and when she comes down from her high she looks to Robin–watching the way he looks at Mal. She grins, stroking her hand though Mal's hair as she pulls up her knees–and drawing in a breath, she watches as Mal sits up. Her cheeks flushed slightly as Mal grins at her–cocking an eyebrow seductively as if to ask if she enjoyed it–and then as she bites down on her lip, her eyes slide to Robin. She gives Mal a little nod and then edges over to allow Mal to lay down between them–and when Mal rolls onto her side and Robin's arms wrap around her as he pulls her into a kiss, she can't help but think how gorgeous they look, tangled in such an intimate embrace.

Robin's hand slips into the back of her lacy underwear, somewhat awkwardly pulling them down as he kicks away his own boxers, careful not to break their kiss. She hears Mal giggle against his mouth–and there's something terribly endearing and sexy about the way she does it. It's a little strange to be watching them like this and she's not sure what she's supposed to do, other than just watch. She sucks in a breath, watching as Robin's hand rubs over the curve of Mal's ass–and there's a part of her that feels like she's interrupting–but then his other arm opens up and he motions of her to come closer.

She does–and her stomach flutters as she sits up and presses a warm kiss to Mal's shoulder. Mal pulls back as Robin rolls onto his back, and she grins at Regina while she positions herself to straddle his waist. Regina looks down between them, her eyes focusing on Robin's cock–watching as it practically begs for attention–and then she settles back on the bed beside him. He turns his head, grinning as he kisses her–and then, she breaks the kiss, wanting to watch him with Mal.

Her lip catches between her teeth as she watches Mal get up on her knees, watching as Robin rolls on a condom and then helps guide himself into her–and then slowly, Mal sinks down on him. Her palms press into his chest and she looks at him, grinning–and then her eyes slide to Regina, her eyes trailing down her naked body as her hips start to move.

It's slow at first–and he holds her hips as she slides against him–slowly working him in and out of her, nearly at full length–and then, she picks up her pace, riding him hard. Their breath becomes ragged and husky–and she can't believe how turned on she is, just watching them together. Her hand slips between her legs, rubbing absently as she watches them, pleasuring herself as they pleasure each other–and then, her breath catches in her throat and her eyes widen a little as Mal reaches between her legs. Robin grins at her as she wriggles downward, and as Mal fucks Robin, her fingers fuck her–and she feels her second orgasm quickly starting to build.

It's easy to get lost in the moment. She's not really focusing on anything in particular, but everything about what's happening is so exciting and erotic, and its hard for her to remember that only a couple of hours before, she was doubting the whole thing–that a couple of hours before she was worried that this would be disappointing or that she wouldn't know what to do or that she wouldn't enjoy it the way she thought. She hears a low grunt escape Robin, she looks to him, grinning as she she realises how close he is to coming–and then, taking a breath, she sits up and holds her breath as she tucks her legs beneath herself and reaches out to rub her fingers against Mal's clit–and she grins as Mal turns to look at her with wide, but encouraging eyes.

Robin comes–and Mal rocks slowly against him, Regina's fingers pushing back and forth against her in an easy rhythm. He breathes through the orgasm, kneading his fingers at her hip as he watches Regina's fingers rubbing against her–and nearly as soon as Mal rolls off of him, she's in her back and Regina's between her legs.

She doesn't think about it–she just does it, and it surprises her how intuitive it is and how into it Mal seems to be. She licks her until she's squirming beneath her, her second orgasm coming quicker, and when she pulls away, her cheeks are flushed and momentarily, she feels a little embarrassed by her zealousness. But Mal watches her, her chest rising and falling with each labored breath as she tries to come down from her orgasm and Robin's lips quickly find her jaw. And it's not before long that he's easing her onto her back to fuck her.

Neither of them last for very long–and it's soft and lazy and sweet. He slips in and out of her, watching as she and Mal trade sloppy kisses. And when it's done, they all lay together, breathless, tangled and quiet. There'd been a part of her that feared this part the most–the afterward when nothing could be taken back and regret might start to seep in–but it's comfortable and she's glad that there don't seem to be any signs of regret.

Mal kisses her cheek as she sits up and she watches the way Robin's hand gently rubs against the small of Mal's back as she points to the robe folded on the dresser and asks if she can borrow it for a bit. Regina nods, telling her that it's out for her and she grins her thanks. Mal pulls it on and retreats into the bathroom, suggesting on her way that they should heat up the forgotten take-out, and both she and Robin laugh as Mal tells them she's fairly sure they've all worked up a good appetite.

"So," Robin murmurs as he rolls onto his slide, stroking his fingers over her bare hip. "You okay?"

She nods. "Very okay."

"You enjoyed it," he says, a sweet little grin edging onto his lips as his eyes glint with contentment. "Or you seemed to."

"I did," she admits. "And you–"

"Feel the same."

"So, you want to continue–"

"I do."

"Good," she says, giggling softly as she presses a quick kiss to his lips. "I do, too."

He laughs, pressing a kiss to her forehead before getting out of bed and reaching for his own robe, tying it around himself as he pulls her robe from the hook and hands it to her. She slips into it as she gets out of bed and as she tugs at the sheets, she grins when he hands her a fresh set, helping her to change them. He pulls the quilt back up over the new sheets, fanning it out and letting it cascade down as she puts the dirty sheets into the hamper–and when she turns back to him, he catches her by the waist, pulling her into a kiss.

"Is this a private moment or–"

They both laugh as they pull away from each other, and Robin opens his arm to Mal. Regina grins as Mal comes to them, nuzzling into Robin's side as they make plans for the rest of the night–plans that involve re-warmed Chinese take-out, a game of scrabble and a lot of cuddling on the couch.

Regina's arm slides around Mal's waist and Mal's head falls to rest on hers, as they make their way into the living room to set up the coffee table and Robin goes to heat up their food–and she can't help but smile at the contentment she feels, and she wonders why they'd waited so long to have this moment.

Regina sighs as she rounds the corner into their bedroom, padding across the room as Robin towel dries his hair. She climbs into bed as he tosses the wet towel into the hamper, and she sighs again, this time louder as he gets into bed with her.

"What?" He blinks, as she rolls onto her side to face him. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like I did something." She only shrugs and sighs, watching as Robin's brow creases. "The last time you looked at me like that I left the refrigerator door open and the milk spoiled."

At that, her eyes roll. "I wasn't mad at you because the milk spoiled. I was mad at you because I didn't realize that and I gave Roland sour milk in his cereal and he spit it up… all over my shoes and I was nearly late for court." Then, a little grin tugs up at the corner of her mouth as she reaches out, rubbing two fingers over his forearm. "But I'm not mad at you now."

"Are you sure?"

She nods. "I'm just… worried."

"That was convincing," he tells her, biting down on his lip. "You know, if there's something you want to talk about–"

"I shouldn't."

"Oh…"

They had a rule–a rule that said they wouldn't talk about Mal's case at home. For the most part, they'd done a good job of this. Robin was already in an awkward position and toeing a dangerous line and every time the case came up, Mal would shrink away. No matter how many times they told her they wouldn't let her go to prison, she'd nod along and smile softly, but they knew she didn't fully believe it. If her marriage to Stefan Perrault had taught her anything, it was that life wasn't fair–life had a way of kicking her when she was down, and it hadn't taken long before she realized that there was no rock bottom, and she could always sink lower.

"Mal's still asleep. I just checked on her."

His brow arches. "She went up to nap hours ago. I was sure she'd be milling around in the kitchen by now."

"I know, and… I'm sure this is a good thing that she's able to sleep because I don't think she'd been sleeping very well before she came here. It's just…" She sighs, realizing she's not articulating her thoughts well because she's tired and trying too hard to be careful of what she shares, but it's impossible not to confide in him and though they're still trying to find a balance for this new situation, she won't shut him out. "She was so upset in my office earlier, and then she was quiet through dinner. I wanted to talk to her, and make sure she's… as okay as she can be, given the circumstances."

"Is that how the two of you ended up talking about Henry?"

Regina blinks. "Hen–oh. Yeah, that came up."

"She was really upset about that," he says, rolling onto his side to face her. "When I got home she was looking at that box of recipe cards of all the boys' favorites, you know… the ones with the pictures… she just looked so upset."

Regina nods. "She kept telling me that you and I were supposed to be okay and…and I know we had that rough patch after she left us, but when you compare what we went through and what she was going through, it just… seems sort of…." She sighs and her eyes press closed. "I don't know know where I'm going with that."

"No, I get it," Robin says as her eyes meet his. "I felt about an inch tall when I was talking to her today. I was so angry at her for leaving. I didn't understand how she could just… up and leave. I never considered… more than that."

"You were hurt," she says simply as her thumb rubs against his wrist. "And it's not like we had a way to contact her. She was in…"

"Countries I'd never even heard of," Robin says flatly, rolling his eyes. "I read that article a hundred times trying to find a way to reach her, to figure out where exactly she was."

"I know. I did, too."

He sighs, shaking his head. "And now, I… I feel guilty."

"I do, too."

"I feel guilty for moving on and being happy when…"

"That's the worst part of it," she says, her voice catching in her throat as her eyes press closed for a moment–and she thinks about all of the times she'd privately wished that Mal were there with them, all those happy moments that could have been happier. "We found a way to be happy without her."

"I didn't think it when we were all together, but looking back, that had to be a fear of hers… that… that you and I would decide we just wanted it to be the two of us again and–"

"But we didn't decide," Regina says, her eyes fluttering open. "But… I don't think it's fair to say that she decided it, either."

He nods, taking a breath as she continues rubbing her fingers over his wrist. "She spent over a decade in a living hell, just a few miles away and we…sulked and then moved on with our lives." He stops and swallows–hard and audible–before his eyes meet hers. "We didn't fight for her."

"I know," Regina murmurs in reply, the ever-present knot in her stomach tightening. "That's… that's part of why I want to fight for her now. It's why I have to win this case." She pauses for a moment, chewing at her lip, fully aware that she's teetering closer and closer to dangerous ground. "I know we're not supposed to talk about it, but… I just keep thinking if I miss something or if I don't explain something right, this could be it for her. I could fail her again."

"That's not likely," he says as a little grin edges back onto his lips.

"But it's going to be up to a jury that's likely going to be primarily men, and though I would never say this to her, she did buy that gun a week before she killed him with it. There's actually a smoking gun here and I'm just… I'm worried that once they hear that, they won't hear anything else." Biting down on her lip, she watches as he shifts uncomfortably. "I'm… I'm telling you this as my husband and not as…"

"I know," he cuts in. "And…that's if I made that argument. That's if–"

"Stop," she cuts in, giving him a warning look–and then she sighs. "We really shouldn't be doing this. We shouldn't talk about it, not like this."

Momentarily, Robin's eyes press closed and he nods–and she can tell he's disappointed. They used to enjoy this–bouncing ideas off of each other, trying to figure out the opposing counsel's next move, plotting how they'd counter. There'd been so many nights that they'd stayed up late, splitting a pot of coffee and picking at leftovers long after the boys had gone to bed, going over evidence and crafting zingers they could deliver during their opening and closing arguments. They worked well together–they fed off each other and though they had different strengths and weaknesses, they complemented each other and were practically an unstoppable pair.

Then one morning, he told her he was considering leaving the firm they'd built together. He'd given her some bullshit line about wanting to stand for justice, and though she'd first thought it was a knee-jerk reaction to a recent case they'd won–a case in which their client had definitely been guilty. She tried to reason with him, reminding him that it was just part of the job, that the prosecutor could have done a better job, but a month later, he hadn't changed his mind and was packing up his office–and it hadn't been until that first day when she'd walked in and saw the empty office beside hers that she realized that part of their lives was over.

"Why did you take this job, Robin?" She hears herself ask, already knowing the answer, but wishing now more than ever it could be undone. "If you hadn't left, we'd be doing this together we'd… be on the same side, and I'd feel a hell of a lot better about my chances."

"Your chances of winning are just as good without me. You always were the better attorney."

"That's not an answer."

Nodding, he takes a breath and rolls onto his back, pulling away from her. "We've talked about this."

"I know, but I still don't get it."

"You get it," he says, pressing his head back into the pillow as he draws in a breath. "You just think it was the wrong decision."

"Because it was."

"Regina…"

"Robin," she says, sitting up so that she's looking down at him. "You're a defense attorney and a damn good one. You shouldn't be–"

"I know you think I gave you some bullshit reason," he cuts in. "But I wasn't lying to you when I said that I couldn't keep getting people acquitted for crimes they'd clearly committed. I was never completely comfortable with the moral ambiguity of what we do, and… once I came down from my high horse, I'd all but accepted the job."

"It was one case."

"It was more than that and you know it. My heart was never really in it."

Her brow arches. "And your heart is in this?"

"No."

"So, how do you feel about that now?"

"Like an asshole."

"Good."

"I also thought it'd be fun to go toe-to-toe with you in court," he says as a sly little grin stretches across his lips. "You know, getting each other all worked up and then… coming home and… making each other forget all about it."

A little grin pulls onto her lips–she likes that, and she wishes that's what he'd told her from the start. "You thought it'd be fun having me publicly hand you your ass, again and again and–"

"Well, I thought I'd win sometimes," he says, his voice a bit indignant. "But it wasn't about who won or who lost, it was just… something fun, something new, something different."

"Something to keep the spark," she realizes–again, wishing he'd told he that months ago, so she hadn't spent the entire spring pissed off about something she couldn't fix or change. "That's… kinda of sweet. Why didn't you tell me that?"

"I don't know. I… I just… didn't want you to get bored with me."

"I couldn't," she says, laughing softly as she lays back down, this time cuddling into his side. "Are you sure there wasn't… something else?"

"Something else?" He asks, folding his arm around her. "It really wasn't that complicated. It was just–"

"Are you sure it didn't feel like something was missing?"

He blinks down at her and then nods, hugging her a little closer as he presses a kiss to her forehead. "Oh."

"And maybe you felt that way because… something was missing."

"Yeah," he murmurs. "Maybe."

"I felt that, too, you know," she tells him.

He nods. "She was alway there, even when she wasn't."

"Yeah," she agrees. "Always there, in the back of my head."

"It just seemed unfair to admit that to you though."

"I felt the same way."

"I never wanted you to think that you weren't enough or that the life we've built together wasn't enough."

She blinks as she tilts her head up to look at him. "So, you decided to piss me off instead?"

A little chuckle rises up from his chest. "You're cute when you're pissy and–eventually, I thought you'd realize how fun it'd be to be on opposite sides of the courtroom. And it'd be spontaneous and… fun." For a moment, he stares past her, grinning softly as a little chuckle escapes him. "I just had all these little fantasies about squaring off against you in court then coming home and pushing you up against a wall and letting my frustration out in another way."

Her brow arches, and she has to admit, there's definitely something appealing about that little scenario–but that little scenario, so far, is too far away from reality to actually enjoy. "Are you having fun now?"

"No," he sighs, his frustration evident. "I guess we can just chalk this up to another stupid decision."

"You could quit. I know you said–"

Robin shakes his head and her voice trails off. "I told you. I don't trust Gold… especially not with Mal." He sighs again as his fingers slide up and down over her shoulder, and for a couple of minutes neither of them says anything. Instead, she just watches as he stares up at the ceiling. "Do you think we treated her as… some kind of dirty little secret?"

"What? No." She sits up, her brow furrow as she looks down at him. "Why would you ask that?"

"Because Mal said it," he admits as their eyes meet. "She was upset and I told her that I didn't think we were destined to fail, that the three of us could have worked out in the end… and she said… that."

Regina blinks, and she can't help but feel as though she's been punched in the gut. "Ouch."

"I know."

"She… really said that? She said that we treated her like a dirty little secret?"

"Well, not… like that," he says, pulling himself up. "She said that she wanted us to have a normal life, and that we couldn't have a dirty little secret hiding in our bedroom."

"Still… ouch."

"I never really thought of it that way, but… after she said it, I couldn't help but think that maybe we had inadvertently treated her that way." He shrugs. "With the exception of John, no one knew."

"That was… to protect her."

"That was the intent." He sighs and rubs his hand over his brow, his fingers pressing into his skin and wrinkling as he drags them back and forth. "All evening I've been thinking about the night John found out about our relationship with her… and the things he said…and… the things I didn't say."

"Well, in your defense, we were caught off guard." Her shoulders tense with indignation. "And I don't care that the door was unlocked. Any decent person would knocked before barging into someone's apartment, especially so unexpectedly."

"Yeah, well…he didn't."

She grimaces as the memory–a memory that still makes her uncomfortable. They'd been at home, caught up in their own little world. Mal was over and earlier in the evening they'd gotten take out from Granny's. She'd picked it up on her way upstairs–and the half-eaten carton of tomato soup was getting cold on the on the coffee table beside the plates they hadn't bothered to take into the kitchen when John arrived. It was raining that night and they hadn't had a care in the world. After dinner they'd put on some music and settled on the couch together, expecting to spend a lazy evening in, enjoying their lovers' company. Eventually, as it always seemed to, one thing led to another–and by the time John walked in on them, she was topless and straddling Robin's lap as he kissed her neck and as she made out with an also topless Mal.

It'd been humiliating–and it would have been humiliating whether Mal was there or not.

"I just wish I'd handled it differently," Robin tells her. "I was so worried about what he thought."

"Well, you've been friends when him since you were seven."

"Yeah," he nods. "But I'm in love with her and the things he said about–"

"In love," Regina murmurs as a little grin edges onto her lips as she sits up. "You're in love with her… as in… presently, you're in love with her… not, you used to be in love with her."

Robin blinks–and it's obvious he didn't realize what he said–and then he smiles. "You've always known that I still have feelings for her."

Regina nods, "But having feelings for someone or even loving someone isn't the same as being in love with them." Biting down on her lip, she looks down at him, watching as he pulls himself up onto his elbows. "And, that's quite a relief because… I'm still in love with her, too."

She takes a breath, feeling a little flicker of excitement–she's been thinking about this since the moment she first saw Mal in her office, thinking about what it'd be like to just pick up where they left off and pretend that the last eleven years hadn't happened. If there'd been any doubt that she was still in love with her, it vanished completely when she spent a night holding her. And since then, she'd been tip-toeing around it, fully aware there were two other people's feelings she had to consider. She didn't want to let herself fall in too deep and she didn't want to hurt either of them–but she also didn't want to hurt herself.

"Robin, do you think that after this is all over there'd be a chance that we could… try again."

"With Mal?"

She nods. "I know she's… going through a lot right now, but I don't think she ever really wanted to leave, and eventually…"

"Neither do I," he admits. "She all but said it this afternoon."

Regina nods. "She and I… kissed this afternoon."

"I kissed her, too."

"We made out in my office."

"We made out in the kitchen."

She blinks–and then she can't help but laugh. Robin's arm hooks around her shoulders and he lays back, pulling her down with him, and as he presses a kiss to her forehead and she cuddles into his side.

"So I guess it's up to Mal then."

"Yeah, I guess it is," she murmurs back. "It'd be nice though, having her back… having things the way they used to be."

"It wouldn't be the same though," he says. "We have children now and…"

His voice trails off and she lifts her head from his shoulder. "I wouldn't want to keep her a secret."

"No," he's quick to say. "I wouldn't want to do that."

"They'd love her," she murmurs softly, resting her head on his shoulder as he squeezes her a little closer–and just a little while, she loses herself in the fantasy of what it'd be like to have Mal back in their lives, as real part of their life. Roland would love her instantly–after all, how could he not love someone whose last name literally meant "of the dragons,"–and Henry was so like her in so many ways, interested in everything and obsessed with art and pictures. They could be a family–and though it wouldn't be the traditional, conventional type–it'd be theirs and it'd be one she'd long ago stopped hoping she'd have.

Robin sighs as he nurses a cup of coffee and blinks down at the notebook balances on one knee and then textbook balances on the other, and for the life of him, he can't make heads or rails of his own writing. Grimacing, he looks up at Regina, watching as she writes out an outline on a yellow legal pad–and watching as she does so either ease.

"Can I borrow your notes? Mine are… smudged."

Rolling her eyes, she looks up and grins. "That's why you don't write note in pencil."

"I like writing in pencil. It's easier to fix mistakes."

"And then the pages smudge when the pages press together." She sighs, shaking her head as he frowns down at his notes, and when he looks back up, her note book is extended to him. He takes it and looks down at the front of the composition book. It's labeled with the course title and the professor's name, and along the edges are little tables that she made out of tape, each leading to a particularly important part of the notes. Inside, he finds her flawless script–written in ink, and not at all smudged–and in the widened margins are questions and points she wants to make in her paper. "I'll, uh, get this back to you in a–"

"Keep them as long as you need to," she cuts in, her voice distant as she focuses down on the legal pad and her outline. "I'm done with them."

"How is that possible?"

She blinks as she looks up at him. "Because while someone went out with the boys, to celebrate a semester that's not actually over–"

"It is over, though," he counters. "Classes have ended."

"But we still have two papers to write and an exam."

Frowning, he looks down at her notebook. "You could have come with us. You were invited."

Regina laughs. "They didn't want me to go. They wanted you to go, and thought I had to be invited for that to happen."

"But you–"

"I'm not upset," she cuts in. "I got a jump start on my first paper, didn't have to share my popcorn, and didn't have to spend an evening gritting my teeth and smiling at a bunch of men who think it's cute that I'm in law school." A little laugh escapes her. "I care much more about maintaining my perfect grade point average than making friends."

"I feel guilty for going without you."

Her eyes roll and she laughs again. "If you're going to feel guilty, feel guilty about drinking yourself into a hangover when you've got this much work and studying to do this week, not about having an evening out with your buddies."

Before he can reply there's knock at the door and Regina's attention shifts away from him and her outline–and he grins as she opens the door to Mal, kissing her cheek as she passes into the apartment. He watches as she sets down two suitcases–and he laughs as she announces that she's there to spend the week with them.

"The whole week?" Regina asks, her brows arching as she looks between them. "That's amazing, but I wish it were any other week."

"We've go a few deadline and–"

"Oh, I know," Mal says, looking between them. "That's why this week is so perfect."

"I'm… not following this," he says slowly, setting Regina's notebook on the coffee table in front of him. "It's perfect that…you're here but we're crazy busy?"

"You'll have to forgive him," Regina says, grinning over at Mal. "He's a bit hungover."

"Ahhh…"

"I just think it'd be more enjoyable for all of us if Regina and I weren't swamped with work, so we could…"

"But that's just it," Mal cuts in. "I want to help. I can make pots of coffee and snacks. I can go on library runs and rub tense shoulders. I've got a few bags of groceries in my car and," she draws in a short breath as she hoists up a small–and seemingly heavy–black leather suitcase. "I even brought my typewriter."

"That's sweet," he says, watching as Regina's eyes light up at the mention of the typewriter. "And you're right. That does sound kind of perfect…for Regina and I, but that doesn't sound very fun for you."

Mal's eyes widen and she shrugs. "I get to spend a whole week with the two of you. What could be more perfect than that?"

"You can really sneak away for a whole week?"

She shrugs. "My family thinks I'm bird watching."

Regina's brows arch. "I'm sorry? What?"

"Bird watching," Mal says again, looking between them. "Two summers ago a friend and I went up to this little cabin in Maine and I took photographs of birds and she sketched them." She shrugs. "They think I'm doing that again."

"Oh…"

"Won't they want to see the pictures?"

Mal's brow arches as he looks to Regina. "A picture of a pigeon is a picture of a pigeon. They'll hardly be able to tell the pictures are old, especially if I develop some of them a second time." She grins. "And that'll buy me a couple of afternoons with the two of you next week."

"This just keep getting better."

His heart flutters as Regina grins, hugging Mal into her side and squeezing her. "And some of us won't take the full week to finish," she says, laughing softly as she winks at him. "I'll be glad to have her here when you're grumpy and pulling an all-nighter the day before the exam."

Robin frowns, but he can't deny it; so instead, he takes a sip of his coffee–and then gingerly, he rises up to his feet. "I'll go grab those groceries, while you settle in," he says, as he takes her keys from her, rolling his eyes as Regina murmurs something about just wanting to put off his paper for a bit longer.

Mal laughs gently and brushes a kiss to his cheek as he passes her–and by the time he reaches the stairs, he's grinning like an idiot at the prospect of having week with Mal. He reaches her car and unlocks the trunk and collects three full bags of groceries—and as he mills through them, he can't help but notice a brand new box of condoms peeking out from a pharmacy bag and tucked beneath a few small crates of berries.

Slamming the trunk closed, he goes back in, unloading the groceries and putting them in them away–and when he hears Regina laugh from the bedroom, he grabs the pharmacy bag and joins them.

A grin edges onto his lips when he enters, finding them both sitting at the edge of the bed, kissing as Mal's opened suitcase sits forgotten behind them. He clears his throat and they pull apart, and a bit awkwardly he pulls the condoms from the bag. "The freezer seemed like a poor place to store these."

"You brought a box of condoms?" Regina asks, looking at her with an arched brow. "A whole box."

"What?" Mal asks, looking between them with wide eyes. "I'm staying here for a week and I know you're both busy, but I can't imagine that'll mean no sex at all and… it'd be a pity if we ran out." She shrugs. "I know that you two don't always use them and I don't know how regularly Robin buys them, and it'd be a shame to ruin our fun because of poor planning."

Regina looks at her. "I… don't think that would have to mean we couldn't have any fun."

"But our fun would be limited," Mal counters. "And if we don't end up needing them this week, we'll need them eventually." She shrugs as she rises up from the bed. "Besides, those ones are ribbed for a little bit of extra fun."

Robin blinks, swallowing hard as his eyes shift away focusing on her suitcase on the bed. "And, the, uh… camera?"

"Oh, well, if my parents think I'm a few states away taking pictures of birds, I had to make it look convincing and actually take my camera." And then her smile turns coy. "And you never know when inspiration might strike." His brows arch and suddenly, he can't help but let his mind wander to all the naughty things they could do with a camera. Mal laughs as she looks between them. "Are you two hungry?"

"Um, what?" Regina asks, her eyes fixed on the box in his hand.

Robin clears his throat as he sets the box on the nightstand. "I. uh… hadn't really…"

"It's not even nine," Mal says. "And judging by the state of the living room, I highly doubt either of you woke up and made a big breakfast, and neither of you have the guts to bug Granny for free food in the middle of the morning rush."

"No…"

"Okay," she breathes out, smiling again as she looks between them. "So you two go and… do whatever it was that you were doing before I got here, and I'll make us all breakfast."

And then she leaves–leaving them to follow her.

Regina redirects him to the couch and back to her note book and he can't help but grin as she sets up Mal's typewriter at the table–and his brows arch and a little chuckle escapes him as he watches her pet two fingers over one of the keys. And when she catches him watching her, she turns and give shim a stern and serious look that never ceases to be adorable–something that both infuriates her and makes her blush.

He settles back into his chair and pushes away the thoughts that are far more fun to think about. He makes a few notes on a legal pad and starts to piece together a bit of the argument he wants to make, and thankfully, the aspirin he took when he woke up that morning starts to kick in. Every now and then, he grins as the sound of Regina's fingers tapping on the typewriter keys or Mal humming softly from the kitchen as she makes them all blueberry pancakes–and though it's safe to say that term papers and exams never factored into the equation when he thought about what it'd be like for Mal to spend a week with them, he can't help but think that regardless of the timing or the situation, he's glad to have her there with them and glad to have here there as a real part of their lives.

It's strange being in Robin and Regina's house without them; but then again everything about this situation feels a little strange to her–even if it was a good kind of strange.

She'd missed them–for years, she'd missed them. For so long, they'd been just a few miles away and so often she wondered what would happen if she just so happened to run into them at the grocery store or the bank, or if she'd simply picked up the phone and called them. It was a fantasy she indulged in often–usually when things got really bad between her and Stefan–but she always knew it couldn't be more than a fantasy because they were too important to her to allow herself to ruin their lives. And if she allowed herself, even once, to indulge in those fantasies, that was exactly what would have happened–and really, it was a small miracle she'd gotten away with it as long as she had.

Taking a breath, she reaches for a framed photograph and she smiles at it–smiling at the photograph of Robin and Regina with their boys, all smiling and looking so happy and content–and she can't help but think that it's the sort of photograph that should be on the cover of a magazine. They all look so perfect. Judging by the background–a giant mound of crumpled red and green metallic wrapping paper and a hint of a pine branch in the corner of the frame, the picture was taken on Christmas morning.

Henry and Roland are wearing matching flannel pajamas–Henry's are red and white, while Roland wears a green and yellow pair–and though it's hard to tell, each are clutching the same penguin stuffed animal. Roland is sitting on Robin's knee donning a bright and cheesy smile while Henry leans back against Regina's legs wearing a smile that's so reserved, and almost shy. Robin is holding onto Roland tightly and his chin rests atop the little boy's messy hair while Regina's arm is hooked around their oldest, her chin resting on his shoulder as she smiles the same bright but reserved smile.

She feels her throat tightening as a little voice in her head reminds her of what she's missed out on–but then a stronger and louder voice reminds her of just how impossible that would have been. Drawing in a breath, she swallows hard and reminds herself that tears won't solve anything, and that their smiles should be a comfort and a reminder that the sacrifices she made we were worthwhile.

Tracing her finger over the edge of the frame, she can't help but get lost in the what if's and what might have been's–and though it's painful, she lets her think about what it'd have been like if she'd been there that Christmas morning when the photograph was taken.

She imagines that the boys were up before the sun–giggling excitedly as they ran down the stairs, their eager footsteps serving as an alarm clock for everyone else in the house. She imagines waking with a groan, unable to believe that it's already morning–and Robin and Regina slowly waking up beside her, muttering about the early hour and their need for coffee as they all pulled on their robes and headed downstairs to join the children, all brimming with excitement and ready to tear into their presents…

Minutes later, they'd have joined them with cups of instant coffee in their hands as Roland excitedly informed them that Santa had most certainly come the night before–evidenced not by the presents stacked beneath the tree, but by the empty plate on a table beside the fireplace. They'd all chuckles softly and nod, pretending that they hadn't used those cookies as their reward for actually finishing gift-wrapping before sunrise.

The three of them would settle on the couch watching as the children opened presents, a mountain of brightly colored paper accumulating slowly between them. Henry would search through the presents, separating his out from the others' and Roland would have started with the biggest that he could find. They'd have all cuddled up together and sipped their coffee, and somewhere in the middle of it all, while Henry thumbed through a new comic, while Roland tested out his new View Master, they'd have exchanged their own presents–and hers would have been the camera that the picture she was looking at was taken with.

She smiles at the false, but vivid memory, thinking about how she'd have made them all pose and how easily she'd have gone through an entire roll of film in a single morning. She jumps ahead of herself, thinking about how much fun it'd have been to develop those pictures and how she and Robin and Regina would have laid in bed together, picking out their favorites and one favorite to frame.

And then, for a fleeting moment, she lets herself imagine what that photograph might have looked like had she been there–and she pictures Regina reach out and tugging her into the photo, allowing the timer on the camera to do its job and capture a family photo that includes them all–and as she settled on the floor between the boys, she thinks of how she'd have reached up between Robin and Regina and tickled the bottom of a little foot belonging to a blonde haired, blue eyed little girl who had her father's dimples–the girl who–

Sucking in a breath, she stops herself.

She'd let the fantasy go too far and for an all too brief moment, she'd allowed herself to consider what it'd have been like if she'd allowed herself to have them, to consider what it'd have been like to build a family with the people she loved, to consider what could have been hers… and even the fantasy is too painful to stand.

Blinking back her tears, she reminds herself that it was better this way–she could never have what she wanted, and there was no point in crying over what would never be.

Had she stayed their life would have never been normal. Robin and Regina would never have had a normal marriage and no matter how hard they tried, they'd never have been able to keep her a secret. People would have found out and they wouldn't have understood–and though they might have been able to handle that, it'd have been especially unfair to their children.

Swallowing the lump at the back of her throat, she sets the picture down and bats her hands over her eyes–she can't cry over this, she decides, and though she's not sure what, she knows she needs to go and do something else–and when she turns, she jumps back at the sight of Robin, standing at the threshold with his hands in his pockets.

"I didn't mean to startle you," he says, "I, um… I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," she replies, averting his eyes in an effort to hide her tears. "It's your house and–" She pauses, looking up at him as her lip catches between her teeth as she realizes the time. "It's three-thirty in the afternoon and… you're here."

"It is, and I am."

"Not that I have any opinion on the matter, but shouldn't you be at work?"

Nodding, he sighs. "Yeah, I just… I couldn't quite stay there today."

"No?"

"No," he tells her, as a little grin edges onto his lips as he comes into the room and sits down on the arm of the couch. "But I have this case that's… slowly eating away at my soul."

"Oh," she murmurs. "Sorry about that."

"It's not your fault."

Her brow arches. "Actually, I'm pretty sure that it is. I murdered my husband, after all, and I assume that's the case that's eating away at you."

Robin blinks. "You have to stop saying that to me."

"It's true. I did."

Robin shrugs dismissively and his smile brightens as he comes toward her. "Besides that I knew that my wife and I have this beautiful house guest who I didn't get the chance to see this morning." She laughs and rolls her eyes as he reaches for her hand, giving it a soft little squeeze. "And I missed her."

She grins and looks away, chewing at her lip–and it feels so nice to be here with him, so nice to have him flirting and being sweet and–

She stops, trying to clear her thoughts, fully aware that she was getting ahead of herself again–just like she'd gotten ahead of herself the other day when she'd kissed Regina in her office and just like she'd gotten ahead of herself when she'd kissed him in the kitchen.

Taking a breath, she looks away from him, trying to maintain her composure–and that's when he reaches for her, his hand touching to her arm and forcing her to look at him, and when she does she finds that his eyes are full of concern. She swallows again as he rubs her arm gently. He doesn't say anything, but he stands there, patiently waiting to see if there's something she wants to talk about–and though she's not sure what she could possibly say to explain herself, just being near him this way is a comfort.

The tears welling in her eyes spill down her cheek and her face scrunches, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment–and again, he says nothing, instead, he pulls her into his arms, holding her and letting her cry.

For awhile, they just stand there with her crying into his chest and him holding her close, stroking his hand comfortingly over her back. He murmurs sweet nothings into her ear–his voice so soft and tender as he tells her that everything's going to work out, that she'll be okay and that he's glad that she's there. After a little while, he leads her over to the couch and she cuddles into his side, letting him hold her even after her tears have stopped.

She smiles a bit shyly as she wipes away her tears, and Robin smiles sweetly, as he hugs her a little closer and presses a kiss to her hair–and then, before she has a chance to overthink it, she leans in and kisses him–pressing her lips to his and parting his lips with her tongue. He's quick to respond, letting his hand push into her hair as he draws in closer, pulling her deeper into the kiss.

At some point–she's not even sure when or how–he pulls her into his lap, and she smiles into his kiss as her fingers rub over his stubbly cheeks. One of his arms stays wrapped around her and the other slides down, his hand rubbing over her ass–and she's not quite sure what it is, but she feels the heavy feeling in her chest lightening as her shoulders relax. Her hand slide into his suit coat and–

"Hello?"

Everything in her tenses as she hears Regina's voice–and her thoughts reel back to one particular evening after a dinner party when she'd convinced one of the wives of one of Stefan's business associates to go upstairs with her, and she can't shake the feeling that had come over her when the woman's husband walked in on them or the desperation and fear she'd felt when she pleaded with him to keep what he'd seen a secret, blaming too much champagne and boredom for their indisgression. And though this moment is entirely different, she can't stop herself from feeling that same fear and desperation as she remembers Stefan's hard eyes on her the rest of the night or how she'd been so sickly worried–and rightfully so–about what her stupidity might bring upon herself at his hand.

"Oh… oh my…" Mal pulls back and her cheeks flush as Robin blinks, his brow furrowing as he feels her tension building as her heart starts to race. His hands stroke gently along her back and she feels tears burning once again in her eyes as Regina sinks down beside them, unable not to notice how upset she is. "It's okay," she tells her as her hand joins Robin's on her back. "It's fine. You're not doing anything wrong."

"But I… I mean, we… we're not…." Her eyes press closed and her cheeks flush at her inability to even explain what she's thinking and feeling. "I just didn't really know how you… um… felt about…"

"You and Robin?" Regina asks, her fingers still stoking lightly against her back. "I feel the same way I always have about the two of you."

"I just… we haven't talked about it and…" She draws in a shaky breath. "I'm sorry. As usual, I didn't think. I just–"

"It's completely fine. You don't have anything to apologize for."

"Maybe we should talk about this," Robin says as he looks to Regina, offering her a soft little smile that she returns. "I think we might need to, just to make sure we're all on the same page."

"Yeah," Regina says. "After dinner, I think."

At that, a soft chuckle escapes him. "Is that my cue?"

"No," Regina replies, laughing softly. "I've got dinner. You take care of her." Mal watches as she winks and then, her breath catches as Regina leans in, kissing her softly on the lips, pulling back and nuzzling her for a quick moment before rising up from the couch. "I hope you're both in the mood for lasagna."

Mal feels herself nod as she chokes out a reply that she barely hears.

"Or you could join us," Robin suggests. "We could order take-out and you could cuddle up here with us until it arrives."

"Ooh, that's tempting," Regina tells him as she leans in and pecks his lips. "But I already went to the meat market and got the hamburger, and I picked up some fresh lettuce and tomatoes, and some bread from the bakery." She shrugs. "I'll just need one of you to pick out some wine in a little bit." Laughing softly to herself, she straightens herself and smoothes her hands over her skirt. "Besides, I want to do a little prep for an upcoming court date and it'd be really helpful if a certain Assistant District Attorney were distracted. It bodes well for me."

Robin sighs and his eyes roll–and Mal can't help but notice the way he tenses at that.

"You're sure?"

"Positive," she tells him with a nod, her hand ghosting over Mal's back . "I'll let you know when I need you, so until then… carry on."

They both watch her go–and for a few long seconds, neither of them says anything. It occurs to her that she should probably get up and go help in the kitchen–that'd be safer and less emotional and it'd give her something to do with all of the nervous energy pent up inside of her–but then Robin shifts her off of his lap and to his side as he pulls her head to his shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. It's so easy being here with him, letting him hold her and comfort her without ever making her admit the things she can't quite bring herself to say aloud. And then, she can't help but nuzzle closer.

"You're safe here," he tells her simply. "No one can hurt you here."

"That's…a nice thought," she says. "Except it's not entirely true."

"Sure it is," he insists. "You're surrounded by people who love you."

She nods. "It's too complicated for it to be safe and sooner or later you'll realize it's too much–"

"Don't do that," he cuts in. "Don't sell yourself short or let yourself think that Regina and I don't still love you, or that we don't want you here."

"I know you both care–"

"Mal…"

"In a perfect world, it might work, but this world is far from that and I don't want you or your children to be hurt by… me complicating your lives."

He sighs, holding her a little closer as she cuddles in, allowing him to hold her. She feels him draw in a breath, like he's about to say something, but no words come, and for that she's grateful. She's not ready for an argument–especially when she'll have to make a case for something she doesn't want or believe in.

Robin pouts as he watches Regina and Mal come out of the bedroom–still giggly and flushed in their loosely tied robes, still completely caught up in each other. Mal's arm is loose around Regina's waist, and Regina's head is pressed to Mal's shoulder, and as annoyed as he is that he's been stuck studying while they've been having fun together in the bedroom, he has to admit, they're quite adorable together and that makes it hard for him to stay annoyed for very long.

They disappear into the kitchen and he hears the tap turn on and the stove ignite, and as he attempts to return his attention to his notes, Regina laughs out. He looks back at the kitchen door, grinning as he imagines

Regina lifting herself onto the counter as Mal fills the kettle, and then as she turns away from the stove, he imagines Regina laughing as she hooks her leg around Mal's hips. He pictures them, teasing each other with little nips and pecks as they wait for the kettle to boil, and he pictures Regina's far-too-dramatic pout when the kettle whistles and Mal pulls away.

For the better part of the last two months, Mal has been a part of their relationship. What started out as a friendship between them all, quickly grew into something more–and by the time they were willing to acknowledge what they were all feeling, she'd already become something of a constant in their lives. She was an easy fit–likely easier than any of them thought she'd be. From the start, they'd all got along so well, and from the start, they'd been fast friends–and even now, that friendship was more than evident and only seemed to strengthen as they grew closer.

Truthfully, when he'd made the decision to propose the idea of inviting Mal into their relationship to Regina, he wasn't entirely sure what he was suggesting–he didn't know if that meant the three of them or simply combination of the two of them, or if he was giving her permission to explore a side of herself that she'd kept tucked away and barely even acknowledged to herself. He knew there were people who enjoyed the freedom of open relationships–not that he knew any of them personally–and he also knew there were people who'd been hurt by them–or, at least he imagined that there were. It was complicated and it was unconventional, and he knew there were risks involved. He worried about ruining their friendship with Mal, he worried about things changing between him and Regina. He knew that there could be hurt feelings and flares of jealousy, that their friends and families wouldn't understand–but when the three of them were together, none of that seemed like a possibility for them.

He loved seeing Regina and Mal together–together, in any way. Almost as much as he loved being with them–in whatever way a specific moment would allow.

He enjoyed catching their stolen moments. He enjoyed the way they'd laugh together at a private joke or the way one of them would sneak a quick kiss. He enjoyed catching a glimpse of one of them taking the other's hand or the way they'd cuddle up together on the couch–and he enjoyed that they let him be a part of those moments, and that he could have those sorts of moments with each of them, too.

He and Regina had only been dating a few months when she'd drunkenly confessed to him in a game of Truth or Dare that she was also attracted to women. Fueled by too much alcohol, he'd asked her a series of questions–asking if she'd ever been with another girl or even kissed one, and to each question, she replied with a shy and almost regretful "no." The next day, when the liquid courage had worn off, she'd barely been able to look him in the eye. Her cheeks had flushed as she stumbled through a lie that served as an explanation and when he'd told her that it didn't bother him, she'd stared at him in disbelief.

After that day, they didn't talk about it again–and then one night, he'd taken her out to the cinema and she'd been dazzled by the deep-voiced and hooded-eyed Lauren Bacall. By that point, years had passed and they were far more comfortable with one another, and they'd had a much more serious and mature conversation about her sexuality. But still, even then it'd been something so abstract and something she distanced herself from.

And then, they met Mal.

Mal was real and tangible, and together they were beautiful and sweet, sexy and fun–and with her, Regina was able to discover and embrace a part of herself she'd long kept hidden away.

"You're still not done?" Regina asks as she comes into the living room, nursing a cup of tea.

Robin's eyes roll and he smiles at Mal as she hands him a steaming mug of tea before sitting down beside Regina and curling her feet beneath herself. "Nearly," he grumbles. "It was a little harder to concentrate with, um… the sound effects coming out of the bedroom."

"You could have joined us," Mal says, sipping her tea. "I mean, if you weren't being produc–"

"He can join us once he's ready for that exam."

Robin chuckles as Mal frowns. "Everyone deserves a little break," she says, looking between them. "Sometimes breaks can be invigorating."

"He had his break," Regina says, arching her brow as she looks pointedly at him. "When he was making a little house out of my index cards."

His eyes narrow as he feels his shoulders tense up a little. "It was a castle."

"And that makes all the difference," Regina says, chuckling softly as she takes a sip of her tea. "Seriously though, it's Constitutional Law. It's not that–"

"Says the history major."

Regina's eyes roll. "I didn't tell you to take this class. You were the one who thought it'd be fun it we signed up for the exact same classes for our last semester, remember? You could have taken some sort of science class that let you… play in the dirt or– "

"Okay," Mal cuts in, her voice rising over Regina's. "There's no need to argue over what you could or couldn't have taken. It's done now and–"

"It's just… boring," Robin sighs. "It's not like–"

"You can do anything to change that," Mal interjects, giving her a look that's somehow both soft and stern. "You've been at this for hours, and I think you're going a little stir crazy." Blinking, she turns to Regina. "And just because you can power through anything and barely need to study, doesn't mean–"

"I don't not need to study. I just study a little bit every–"

"Regina, that's not the point," Mal says. "The point is, I think you could both use a little break."

Robin tosses down the index cards. "Isn't that what you two were doing in the–" Mal's eyebrows arch and his voice faces. "Never mind."

"When is the exam?"

"Monday."

"Well, it's only Saturday now, and it's well-past dinnertime," Mal tells them as she sets her tea down onto the coffee table. "So, I think you should call it quits for the night, and," she blinks and turns to Regina. "I think you should let him."

Regina pouts. "You're kind of bossy."

Laughing, Mal shakes her head and leans in, pecking Regina's lips. "I thought you like that about me." Robin grins as Mal pulls back and he watches Regina bite down on her bottom lip. "Or that's how you felt about a half an hour ago."

"I was… a bit… well…"

Robin laughs as Regina's cheeks flush, and once more, Mal leans in and pecks her lips–and then, tightening her robe, she rises up from the couch. "I'm going to make us all some popcorn," she says decidedly. "You two should find something for us to listen to."

"Oh, CBS is airing a special on World News Tonight about–"

"No," he and Mal both say in unison as Mal disappears into the kitchen–and he can't help but chuckle as Regina pouts and sips her tea.

"You should just be grateful it's Saturday and The Guiding Light isn't on."

"Oh, that is lucky for me."

A little grin pulls onto Regina's lips. "You like it. I know you do."

"I don't have much of a choice."

"Is that why you always have to hover when it's on."

Taking a sip of his tea, he avoids eye contact. "It's a small apartment. It's impossible not to have."

"Sure."

Laughing, he pushes himself up from the armchair and joins her on the couch, stretching out his legs so that his feet rest on the coffee table. He reaches for the newspaper as he folds one arm around Regina, smiling softly to himself as he skims the weekend listings for programming.

"Hey," he murmurs. "In a few minutes, Bing Crosby is going to be performing with Tommy Dorsey and his orchestra. It should last about an hour."

"I like Bing Crosby!" Mal call from the kitchen. "Actually, I love Bing Crosby."

"Me, too," Regina says as she cuddles into his side. "I think we have a winner."

"It appears so."

"Did the note cards help?" she asks, peering up at him with wide eyes. "I'll study with you tomorrow morning, if you want."

"I think I'm ready," he admits. "I just… hate these exams. They're so long and Professor Hopper just… makes me uncomfortable."

Laughing softly, Regina looks up at him, pulling herself up and turning to face him as his arm hooks loosely around her hip. "He's such a sweetheart."

"I know," Robin murmurs. "He's always smiling and… nodding encouragingly." He chuckles softly as Regina's brow arches. "It's condescending."

"It's nice."

"It's fake," he insists. "No one is that nice. I always expect him to hand back my blue books and laugh as he tells me I've failed."

"He wouldn't."

"And he flirts with you."

At that, her eyes widen and her lips part. "No, he doesn't."

"He does. He likes you."

"That's because I always do the reading."

"And because you raise your hand to answer every question."

Laughing softly, her eyes narrow. "Are you arguing your point or mine?"

Rolling his eyes he ignores the question. "At his last lecture, he clearly checked you out when you were coming into the room. He didn't even try to hide it."

"Are you… jealous?"

"No," he bristles, clearly lying. "I'm not jealous."

She seems stunned and her jaw drops. "You are!"

"No."

"Robin…"

"I am not jealous." Regina's brow arches as he bristles again. "I'm not!"

"Are you talking about me?" Mal asks, her voice even but, her eyes wide and cautious as she comes into the living room, hugging a large bowl of popcorn to her middle. "I didn't mean to interrupt or–"

"No," Robin cuts in. "One of our professors has the hots for Regina." A little tighter than necessary.

A little grin stretches over her lips as her brow arches and she looks to Regina. "Well, that's no surprise."

"Mal!"

"Oh, come on, Regina," Mal says, handing Robin the bowl of popcorn as she crouches down in front of the radio, turning the dial back and forth until she hits the station. "He'd be crazy not to have the hots for you. I mean, look at you."

Robin grins as Regina's cheeks flush.

"The first time I saw you, I couldn't take my eyes off of you."

"Maybe that's because I was staring awkwardly at you."

Mal laughs as she turns up the volume and then she joins them on the couch. He can't help but grin as she lays across the couch, her head in Regina's lap and her long legs draped over the arm of the chair. He grins was he watches Regina's fingers comb through Mal's hair as an announcer welcomes listeners to the show.

"He's not my type, anyway," Regina says after a few minutes.

"What?"

"Dr. Hopper," she says, looking over at him. "He isn't my type."

"Oh no?"

Mal tips her head back and momentarily, their eyes meet as her fingers twist around the silky belt of Regina's robe. "And what exactly is your type?"

Robin grins as Regina's cheeks flush slightly as she chews at her bottom lip, looking slightly embarrassed and slightly perplexed, and as Mal's hand slips through the slit of her robe and up her thigh. "I, um… I think you both know that I prefer blondes."

"Yeah?" Robin asks, his fingers rubbing over her robed arm, slowly but surely loosening it–and suddenly they all seem very uninterested in Bing Crosby and whatever orchestra he's performing with. "And why's that?" His brow arches as he shifts himself closer and slides his lips along the crook of her neck. "Any particular reason?"

He feels her breath catch in her throat as she turns to him, slipping her hand up over his stubbly cheek as a grin pulls onto her lips. "Oh," she murmurs. "Well that's easy."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," she nods, brushing her lips over his, teasing him as she pulls herself back, stopping him from taking her lips in his. "They're much more fun."

And then, she draws him back, kissing him hard as Mal pulls her robe open–likely intent on unnecessarily proving her right.

Regina grins as she looks back over at Mal, watching as she dries the dishes that Robin washes—and as she watches, she feels her heart growing heavy at the glimpse of what their daily lives might have been.

"Well, everything's put away," Regina says, clearing her throat as she puts the last Saran-wrapped container into the refrigerator. "And no one's been poisoned, so I'll take this as a win."

"Yet," Robin teases, grinning.

She laughs as Mal swats her hand at his arm. "Don't do that. Dinner was lovely."

"It was," he agrees, looking between them. "I always love your lasagna."

Regina's eyes roll as she steps toward them, grabbing them each by the hand and tugging them toward her. "And what would the two of you say to a nightcap?"

"Oh, I shouldn't–"

"Mal, you had a half a glass of wine," Regina cuts in. "And so what if you get a little tipsy? We're in for the night."

Biting down on her lip Mal's eyes shift between them. "I'm struggling to make good choices sober these days, so–"

Robin's arm slips around her waist and Regina's thumb rubs gently at the back of her wrist. "Is… is this about what I walked in on this afternoon?'

Mal sighs, and she can see her struggling–wanting to pull back and away from them, but not enough to actually do it. "I shouldn't let things… get so…" Her voice trails off and her eyes press closed momentarily. "It's just hard to…" Her eyes open and she shrugs as her eyes drop down to Regina's fingers pressing gently at her skin. "To be with the two of you, but not be with the two of you."

"Who says you can't?" Robin asks, his voice soft and sweet. "Why can't you… indulge a little? We're all willing participants."

"I got carried away this afternoon," Mal says, averting the question. "And the other day in your office, and… then in the kitchen. I need to do better about–"

"Why not?"

"Regina," Mal sighs. "We can't–"

"Why?"

"It won't work," Mal tells her with a shrug as her eyes fall away, focusing again on Regina's fingers rubbing gently at her wrist. "When this is all over–"

"You're going to leave again."

"I have to," she says simply. "I just… hope I have a choice in where I end up."

"And you can't choose to stay," Robin asks as his arm slips around her waist and he draws her back against him–and Regina smile as she watches Mal lean into him. "What if you chose to stay here?"

"That'd be too complicated. It's… it's why I left in the first place."

"Mal…"

"I was always going to marry him, Regina," Mal says, looking back up at her and letting their eyes meet. "It was always meant to be temporary."

"I don't agree."

"Regina, what did you think was going to happen? I didn't have a choice in marrying him. I had to do it, and–"

"People have affairs, Mal. You were already having an affair. Your marriage would have been–"

"A complication."

"A technicality," Regina counters.

"We could have found a way to make it work," Robin adds. "I… I think we still could find a way to make it work." Taking a breath, Mal pulls away from both of them, pushing her hand into her hair as she turns her back to them. "I… I don't think either of us are saying you have to make any permanent decisions, but it's clear that you want to be here and it's clear that there are still feelings–"

"Of course there are," she agrees, her voice small and barely audible. "Feelings don't just… turn off when they're inconvenient."

"Then, let us–"

"It's not fair," Mal counters. "It's not fair to any of us."

"It seems most unfair to you," Regina says, her eyes shifting to Robin. "You're going through a rough time right now, and–"

"There's a reason I couldn't have carried on an affair any longer, Regina," Mal cuts in, her voice stronger now. "It wasn't just unfair to the two of you, it was unfair to me, too–and every time I left the two of you, it got harder and harder." She stops and draws in a shaky breath and they can both tell she's struggling against her tears. "I was teasing myself," she says, her voice cracking. "I was teasing myself with everything I couldn't have."

"And who says you can't have us? Who says you can't have us now?"

"It's… not that simple. You have a family now, and a life, and… I can't fit into that. I don't fit."

"Maybe we could talk about it?" Robin asks, stepping up behind her and pressing his hand to her back. "Maybe we could come up with… something that works for all of us, at least for now."

For a while, Mal doesn't respond–and the silence between the three of them is practically tangible. It's so hard seeing Mal this way. She'd always been so carefree, someone who'd lived in the moment and didn't regret the things that made her happy–yet now, she seemed so afraid and so convinced that she didn't deserve those things, that she wasn't worth the complication.

"For now?" She asks, her voice still small and unsure. "As in… just while I'm here."

"If that's all you can handle," Robin says, his eyes shifting between them. "We'll take it one day at a time."

"And… at the end of this… if I… if I decide to walk away… then, you'll both…"

"Respect your decision," Regina says, nodding as her chest tightens. "As long as the decision is yours."

Mal nods and draws in a breath, slowly releasing it as her eyes pinch closed. "Okay," she says. "We can… talk about that."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," she nods. "I suppose it… it wouldn't hurt to, um… talk it out and lay some ground rules."

Regina grins and that tightness in her chest begins to loosen, replaced by the soft fluttering of hopefulness–and when she looks to Robin, she can see the same hope reflected in his soft grin and sparkling eyes. Reaching for Mal's hand, she gives her a gentle tug toward the living room.

Robin makes them cocktails–bourbon, club soda and a little lime, once a favorite of theirs–and Mal sits down in an armchair beside the couch, maintaining some distance as Robin sits down beside Regina.

For a few long seconds, it seems that no one knows where to start–and then, Mal clears her throat.

"So, it seems obvious that you two have discussed this, already."

"We have," Regina says, nodding. "A little."

"We'd have included you, but–"

"No, this is… this is a conversation that the two of you needed to have alone, first."

Regina's eyes narrow a little as she looks to Robin, remembering the "dirty little secret" comment from the other day–and she feels an ache settle at her core. "Our relationship isn't more important than–"

"You two are married," Mal cuts in. "You were always the couple and I was… the extra one."

"That's not how we saw it."

"It's how it was though," Mal say easily, taking a quick sip of her drink. "And now you have children to consider, a family that–"

"That you should have always been a part of," she replies, her voice piquing defensively as she stares a Mal.

"And could still be a part of, if you wanted to be," Robin says as his eyes slide to Regina his hand slips over her knee, and a soft grin edges onto his lips as he looks to Mal. "But I think we're all getting ahead of ourselves."

"Right," Regina nods, drawing in a breath. "So, let's worry about what's to come later on… well, later on."

"Okay," Mal murmurs with a nod. "I… I can try to do that." She takes another, longer sip of the drink. "And since the two of you have already talked about this, what exactly do you have in mind?"

"Well, in the immediate, we want to be here for you," Regina's quick to say. "We want to support you through this."

"You are," Mal says, a soft grin, edging onto her lips. "You're defending me and–"

"I'm not," Robin says flatly. "I'm doing quite the opposite."

"Well, you can't help that," Mal says with a shrug. "You've both been… kind."

"Kind," Regina repeats as her brow arches. "I… I think we can all agree that, regardless of whatever feelings we have for each other, we're friends, right?"

"Of course."

"Then… let us be your friends."

Mal's eyes narrow. "Friends don't make out on couches or in kitchens."

"And what about in bedrooms?" Regina asks, her brow arching coyly as Mal's eyes widen a bit. "Look, we don't have to put labels on it. We don't have to make any life-altering decisions. But we can be there for you, in whatever ways you need us."

"I remember we were both quite good at taking your mind off your troubles," Robin says as a soft chuckle rises into his voice. "And, I think you could use a bit of that now."

Mal blinks as she looks between them, slowly shaking her head–and then, she laughs. "So, you… want me to go to bed with the two of you."

"If you want to."

"It wouldn't have to be… sexual," Regina says, with a shrug. "Unless you want it to be."

"It could be whatever you wanted it to be," Robin adds. "We just… want to take care of you and… love you a little bit."

"When was the last time someone did that for you?"

"Yeah, when was the last time someone rubbed your back until you fell asleep or held you through the night or woke you up with breakfast in bed or…"

"Made you scream with pleasure until you couldn't think of anything other than how good you felt?"

Again, Mal's eyes widen. "You two are… impossible."

Regina grins, leaning forward and touching her fingers to Mal's knee. "And just so you know, actions speak louder than words, so as much as you protest about not wanting this, you've shown us that you do." She offers a quick little wink before leaning back. "You don't just… accidentally make out with people."

Mal's lip catches between her teeth, and a hint of a grin edges across her lips. "You could… do that with… no strings attached?"

"I think we could see where it goes," Robin tells her. "And if you decide we aren't want you want, then we'll have no choice other than to respect it."

"We won't like it," Regina adds. "But we'll have to respect it."

"Just… give it a shot."

"What? Like a… trial period?"

Regina bites down onto her lip at the unintentional pun–and then, when Mal giggles softly, she reaches for her hand, easily pulling her up from the armchair and down onto the couch between her and Robin. Robin takes their drinks, setting them onto the coffee table and then leans back against the cushions, watching as Regina's hand slips over Mal's hip. Momentarily, her eyes meet Robin's, and they exchange grins just before he leans in, peppering kisses along the crook of Mal's neck, and when she leans in, brushing her lips over Mal's, all she can think of is how right it feels to be with both of them this way again–and how much it'll hurt if they lose Mal all over again.

They didn't typically go out on dates. Staying in was just easier.

But it was the end of spring, and the weather was finally warming up. The semester was over and the little town that surrounded the university was clearing out as students went home to their families, and even the few who were hanging around to take summer classes had retreated for a small break before their new classes began–and when Mal showed up early that morning announcing that, finally, after two weeks of family obligations that had kept her away from them, she was theirs for the weekend.

And she wanted to do something.

Robin glanced to Regina quickly, scrunching his nose as he looked back to Mal, and his voice was full of regret as he told her that he'd promised to help Grahm move out for the summer. He hated to disappoint her and he hated to sacrifice the limited time they had with her, but Mal just grinned and squeezed his hand and offered a quick wink, telling him she'd let him make it up to her later, and until then, she and Regina could have a girls day. He'd grinned as he turned her attention to Regina-and Regina's cheeks flushed adorably.

He'd spent the day with Graham and Jefferson, drinking beers, packing up boxes and hauling furniture into Graham's pickup–and every now and then, his mind would wander to Regina and Mal, and he wondered what they were up to…

When he returned to the apartment, they weren't there, so he'd retreated into bathroom for a quick shower. A slow smile pulled onto his lips as he plucked a note off of the mirror. It was in Regina's tight-but-loopy script, telling him to make sure to wash up and put on something nice so that they could go out that evening; and, then in a looser and loopier script, Mal added they had a surprise for him. He laughed softly to himself as he stuck the note on the outside of the door so that the steam didn't make the ink run, then switched on the water as he undressed and considered all the things a surprise outing might entail…

"Hey you," Regina says, grinning as her eyes lingering over him as he steps out of the bathroom in only a towel. "As much as I'm enjoying that look, you'll need to put clothes on."

Leaning in, he pecks her lips. "Damn. I was hoping I was over dressed."

"You will be for later tonight," Mal says, peeking into the room. "But Granny has a pretty strict rule about her customers wearing pants."

"I thought the phrase was 'No Shirt, no shoes, no service'. He says, laughing as he pulls open closet door. "There's no rule about pants."

"You wanna argue with her?" Regina asks, arching a brow. "Because I don't, and I like to argue." Robin grabs a pair of slacks. "No," Regina murmurs. "The gray ones."

"The navy ones are…"

Her nose scrunches. "I never took those to the cleaners. They smell… musty."

"Oh," he says, shrugging as he watches her grab her curling iron from the bathroom and hold it up so Mal can see it. "This one?"

"Perfect!" Mal tells her as her eyes slide to Robin. "You can't come out until we say you can, deal?"

He blinks. "Deal."

Regina giggles as she presses another quick kiss to his cheek as she hurries through the room, and Mal winks as she pulls the bedroom door shut, leaving him amused and perplexed as he gets dressed. He chooses his gray slacks and white button up, and he hears a little squeal escape Mal as he plucks a thin, knitted sweater vest from the hanger, pulling it over his head. He smooths it out as he looks in the mirror, looking at the yellow, blue, and red rows of diamonds as he considers a tie, eventually settling on a French blue one that Regina says brings out his eyes.

Though he can't quite make out what they're saying, it makes him smile, and it also indicates that they're nowhere near ready for him, so he takes his time on his hair, trying to get that front coif just right–something he's always struggled to do, and something Mal has always teased him about.

Finally, there was a light knock at the door, followed by Mal's quick giggle–and when he opened the door, his breath caught in his throat as he took in Mal. She was wearing a white dress with big, pink and purple roses. It had a tight pencil-skirt and a tight bodice, and the fabric bunched and criss-crossed over her chest, and dainty little cap sleeves covered her shoulders. Her blonde hair fell in loose waves and her pink lipstick made her smile look even brighter.

"You look–"

"Wait til you see Regina," she cuts in as she grabs his hand. "We did a little shopping this afternoon, and," she bites down on her lip. "This dress was made for her."

She drags him into the living room, and his jaw literally drops at the sight of Regina–she's absolutely stunning in a red dress with a deep V-neckline and a patch of black-and-white polka fabric covering up her cleavage. The bodice of the dress is tight, hugging her stomach and embellished with six buttons. The skirt flares out at her hips and her feet sit in a pair if low-heeled red-leather pumps–and as his eyes trail upward, she grins nervously, and that's when he notices the red rose tucked into a twist of her hair.

"What do you think?" She asks, biting down on her bright red lip, touching her finger to a curl pinned up opposite the flower before letting them fall to the flipped up ends. "I know it's–"

"Gorgeous," he manages.

"Isn't she, though?" Mal says, slipping her arm around his back. "Spin around," she instructs as she hugs herself into his side. "This is my favorite part."

He grins as Regina's eyes roll and her cheeks flush a little–and then, she spins, and her skirt flares out and between he can see the black and white polka dot fabric between the pleats. He laughs a little as he steps forward, taking her hand and spinning her.

"So, you like it?" She asks as his arm slips around her. "It's not… too much?"

"No," Mal answers. "It's perfect."

"I'd have to agree," Robin says, looking from Regina to Mal as he holds out his hand to her. "You're both gorgeous… no matter what you're wearing." A grin pulls onto his lips as he he looks back to Regina. "But that dress is… just…"

"Stunning," Mal supplies.

"Yes, stunning."

Regina smiled–beamed, actually–as she took a step back and looked down at herself. Then, taking a breath, she informed him of their plan for the evening. They'd have dinner at Granny's–burgers and shakes–and then head to the cinema. They'd narrowed it down to two and from there, he could decide–For Whom the Bell Tolls or Madame Curie–and Mal's brow arched as she leaned in and whispered that the later was a docu-drarma, and he'd chuckled softly and chose the other, much to Regina's chagrin. Her eyes rolled and her arms crossed over her chest while Mal smiled triumphantly, and when he made a quip about liking Ingrid Bergman's girl-next-door quality, Mal shrugged and in a low voice added she hoped it was a naughty girl next door. He'd chuckled again, watching as a little grin edged onto Regina's lips–and a moment later, they were out the door.

Granny whistled at them, teasingly asking if they were going on a date and when Regina's cheeks flushed and he felt his own shoulders tense up, Mal offered an easy reply about just wanting to enjoy a spring evening in style. It earned a chuckle and a nod from Granny, and she said no more about it.

The theatre was crowded, but they managed to find three seats together in the back corner of the last row, and Robin ordered a too-large bucket of popcorn, covered in too-much butter. Of course, despite their initial complaints from both Regina and Mal, they had no problem eating their share–and somehow, before even fifteen minutes of the movie had played, the bucket ended up in Regina's lap. She claimed it was because she was in the center and it just made more sense, and when he rolled his eyes at her, she only hugged the bucket tighter.

But his annoyance had been short-lived because mid-way through the movie, Regina pulled up the arm rest and pulled his arm around her shoulders before cuddling into his side, and when he looked over at her, his grin only brightened at the sight of Mal's head on Regina's shoulder and Regina's fingers twisting a blonde curl absently as they both watched the screen intently.

They waited until the theatre cleared out and took their time, walking slowly through the uncrowded streets. His arm was loose around Regina's waist and her head was pressed against his arm, and after a quick, look around, he reached for Mal's hand, lacing his fingers through hers. And when her brows arched in response, he'd looked around quickly again before pressing a quick kiss to her forehead as Regina giggled.

Robin rubs at his temples.

He has a headache, his jaw is tight and he can feel heat rising up the back of his neck as he makes yet another feeble attempt to piece together some sort of defense for Stefan Perrault–or rather, the reasons Mal should go to prison for what she did to him.

And he can't–and if this were any other case, he'd have walked away weeks ago because aside from his feelings for Mal, but because of the absurd amount of evidence that pointed to her acting in self-defense.

The state didn't have a case. He didn't have a case. That should have been the end of it.

His head falls back against his chair, he closes his eyes, thinking of the last few nights with Mal. He thinks about how unsure she'd been that first night that he and Regina invited her to sleep in their bed, and how as soon as the lights were off and they were all in bed, how she'd melted into their touch. The two nights that followed were easier, and the night before she'd initiated a kiss goodnight with both of them. That morning he'd woken up and found Regina lying on her side, stroking her fingers gently though Mal's hair. The look on her face was a mix of emotions, ranging from regret to love and everything in between, and in that moment, he so deeply felt what she was feeling.

They'd gone about their morning, falling into old and new routines, and when they finished showering and getting dressed for the day, Mal had fresh coffee and a light breakfast waiting for them. She smiled and she laughed, and when they were leaving, she kissed them goodbye, promising Regina that if a letter came from the boys, she'd call her immediately–and as he left, his chest had tightened at the glimpse into the life that they might've had.

And then, he'd gone to work to attempt to craft an argument why such a beautiful soul should spend the rest of her life imprisoned, as if the last decade of her life hadn't been punishment enough.

"Rough morning?"

Robin blinks, stifling the urge to groan as he looks up to see Gold standing just over the threshold. "The morning was fine," he sighs. "It's… the present that's killing me."

"Long night?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Sometimes, when you have a long night, the start of the morning isn't so bad, but then when the day gets going, it gets harder to… properly function."

Robin's eyes narrow. "I didn't have a long night."

"Not fighting with the wife?"

"Excuse me?"

A sharp laugh escapes Gold as he comes further into the office, nearly sashaying toward Robin's desk. "Well, it's just that I'd imagine it'd be a point of contention that your wife has brought home a… guest."

"My wife doesn't need my permission to have company," Robin says, bristling. "Or to do anything else."

"It must be uncomfortable, though."

"It's a big house."

"Still, to have a murderer under your roof, that's–"

"Difficult," Robin interjects, gritting his teeth. "But like I said, it's a big enough house, so it hasn't been much of an issue."

"But meal times–"

"We eat apart," he says, lying easily. "My wife has never been much of a cook."

"No," Gold muses. "The smart ones never are." He laughs again and Robin swallows back the urge to defend Regina. "So, if your wife isn't the issue, then, I'm confused."

"About?"

"Why things are progressing so slowly," he says, with an easy shrug. "Stefan Perrault was murdered. We have the murder weapon. We have a killer with a motive. This should be easy." His brow arches and his demeanor changes, and suddenly, Robin feels uneasy. "So, what's the hold-up?"

"Lack of evidence," Robin says simply.

"Is that so?"

He nods. "What happened was… unfortunate," he says slowly, "But to be quite frank, Mr. Perrault seemed like a deplorable human who can't muster anyone other than his brother to vouch for his character. In fact, when the police did their interviewing, most assumed he had murdered her."

"Assumptions are often wrong."

"Perhaps, but this is all fairly cut and dry. There's just not much to defend."

"Then it's a good thing you're not defending," Gold tells him with a dismissive shrug, but a pointed glare. "You just have to prove she killed him, and she did."

"And if I can't?"

"I'm sure some evidence could turn up… somewhere."

"Turn up."

Gold laughs and nods as he turns on his heels. "Let me know if you need a bit of… mentoring, in that regard. I'm sure that between the two of us we could scrounge something up." He makes a clicking sound with his tongue as he exited, and Robin sat back in his chair, his temples suddenly throbbing.

It hadn't taken long for him to dismiss himself for an early lunch. He ran a couple of errands and dropped off a parcel to be sent to the boys at camp, and on the way out, he checked their PO box, sighing in expected disappointment when he found it empty. He checked his watched and a grin pulled onto his lips–it was nearly noon and Regina would likely be ordering lunch. Picking up his pace, he hurried toward her office, stopping off at a favorite food cart. He ordered them Cuban sandwiches, loading Regina's with extra pickles, and a few minutes later, he was knocking on the frame of her door.

She smiles brightly at the sight of him as she flops her legal pad down, and gets up to greet him, grabbing onto his hand and leading him to the couch by the window.

"I hope you don't mind," he says as he hands her a sandwich. "I told Belle to take an early lunch."

"Not at all," she replies. "I'm glad to have you all to myself."

Chuckling softly, he unwraps his sandwich. "Oh," he murmurs. "Extra pickles. This one's yours."

"You remembered."

He blinks, "Of course I did. You've always ordered with extra pickles."

Biting down on her lip, she looks down at the sandwich and nods and grins."So, you just… randomly decided to bring me my favorite sandwich and surprise me with a impromptu lunch date." Regina's eyes narrow as she looks back to him, his head tipping to the side. None of this is out of the ordinary, or at least it shouldn't be shocking to her. "The boys wrote, didn't they? They're never coming back to us. They're going to take over a cabin in the woods, and live off the land."

At that, he laughs out. "No, that's my not-so-secret dream, not theirs."

She frowns. "So, they didn't write yet?"

"I'm sorry, love."

Sighing, she plucks a pickle from the sandwich. "They're not going back next year."

"Regina…"

"I won't allow it. I miss them too much."

"You know," he says, turning himself forward. "Instead of having Mary Margaret Nolan spy on them whenever Neal sends up a distress signal, you could… go with her."

"But then, they'd… know."

"Know?" He asks, his brow furrowing slightly. "Know what?"

"That I'm hurt," she sighs. "And I don't ever want them to think that I don't want them to be independent and confident and–" He grins softly as she leans back against the couch and closes her eyes.

Leaning back, he slides his arm around her shoulder. "I miss them, too. And they'll be home soon."

"I do like that they're… well-adjusted and independent."

"I'll pretend you didn't sound disappointed about that." A little chuckle rises into his voice, "Just like I'm pretending I don't know that you have John checking in on them and sending you reports." Her eyes widen a little and he presses a kiss to her cheek. "I know it's not the same though."

"It's not the same," Regina agrees as her arms fold over her chest. "And why else would I have picked a camp twenty-minutes from John's place?"

"I figured that's why you were so insistent on that camp."

"And he's cool enough to be–"

"Regina," he cuts in. "They love you."

"But I don't know how to tie knots and shoot arrows and pick out berries poisonous or–"

"Regina."

She draws in a breath and takes a bite of her sandwich, then looks over at him with a frown. "This is really good."

"It always is."

"Not just the sandwich," she tells him. "Having you here is really good, too."

He nods. "I'll admit… I've missed this."

Regina's brow arches and a hint of a smile tugs onto her lips. "Does that mean you're ready to admit that leaving was a mistake?"

His jaw tightens.

It was a mistake, a mistake he doesn't see a way out of.

"I thought I was joining the Good Guys."

"Robin, you joined the District Attorney's office, not a team of superheroes." And then she frowns. "Wait, if Gold is a superhero, what does that make me? An Evil Queen?" It's a joke, and he should laugh. But his chest feels heavy and his stomach is in knots, and he can't quite muster a laugh. Regina's face softens and she stretches an arm around him, rubbing her hand between his shoulder blades. "Hey," she murmurs, tipping her head to better look at him. "Is there something you wanted to talk about?"

"I can't."

"Robin…"

"You're on the opposite side of this, Regina."

"Ah," she says with a sigh. "Well, what if you didn't talk to me as… anything other than your wife, hm?"

"It doesn't work like that."

"It works however we want it to work." He sighs and his head falls back, and he so desperately wants to confide in her, as he always had. But this if different and it's not a matter of how the rules they've set in place for themselves and it's not a matter of simply trusting the other. There are legalities involved–but there's also a life on the line, the life of someone they both love dearly. "Robin," she murmurs soflty, pressing herself closer, "what's wrong?"

"I just… regret leaving and now I'm stuck."

Her eyes narrow. "I thought you wanted to stay."

"I… did," he says, struggling to find an explanation. "I thought I could protect her and then… the next one wouldn't be this way and… it'd be like I thought it would and…" He stops, shaking his head as he looks at her and more than anything he wants to confide in her and let her help him come up with a solution. "We really made a great team, didn't we?" He says instead. "I don't know what I was thinking."

"We could still make a great team, you know."

"Maybe…"

"Robin, come on. Just talk to me," she says, her voice insistent and full of concern. "Let me help."

"I can't. You, of all people, know that."

"I'm not saying this as Mal's attorney, I'm saying this as your wife," she says as her hand presses between his shoulders. "You're clearly bothered by something, so tell me."

A little smile edges onto his lips. "If I tell you, you won't just be able hear it as only my wife."

Her eyes darken a bit and her chin tips. "Is… this about Mal?"

He hesitates for a moment and then nods, deciding he doesn't actually care anymore about the rules that are supposed to govern their interactions. "Gold sort of…insinuated that if there's a lack of evidence against her that we should… create some."

"Create some."

"Yes."

"That's–"

"Very illegal," he says, nodding. "I know."

"Then you need to–" She stops and her eyes press closed, likely coming to the same realization he'd come to a few hours before. "Shit."

"Yeah."

"So, if you were to quit, it wouldn't just be quitting the case, and–"

"Gold would take over and…" He sighs as his voice trails off. "Who knows."

"And, I don't suppose anyone was around to overhear this?"

He shakes his head, "Not a soul."

"Fantastic."

"Right."

"Fuck."

He sighs, "So, my only option is… to stay and, maybe, try to find proof that's what he intends to do."

"Proof," she repeats, her eyes narrowing. "That's… quite dangerous."

He nods. "Or you need some definitive proof of abuse to back-up your self-defense argument."

Regina's jaw tightens. "I'm waiting on medical records," she admits. "There was nothing in her records from New York, but she and Stefan were all over the place. They were in India, at different periods, and then in Paris and London, and… Cambodia and…" She stops. "It's just so hard to make her talk about it. She clams up and gets so… distant."

"I know," he murmurs. "It's hard to hear her talk about it."

He watches as Regina's finger traces along the edge of the toasted crust. "Do you think Leopold paid him or–"

"I don't know." He watches as her eyes narrow, and she nods, still absently rubbing her hand against the toast, and he can practically see the wheels in her head turning. "It occurred to me that I'm… in a position to find out."

"You are," she says, looking pointedly at him. "Are you willing to… do a little snooping?"

"Are you willing to let me?" He asks, grinning softly. "You typically frown upon my larcenous tendencies."

"Well, it's illegal." Her brow furrows a bit. "And you have a very odd since of ethics."

Robin shrugs. "It isn't illegal to… need a pen or a paperclip or, some other miscellaneous office supply, when… say… the secretaries are all out at lunch, and should I stumble upon something…"

"You'll tell me?"

"I would."

He watches as her eyes momentarily press closed. "Just don't get caught."

"I never do." At that, her eyes flutter open and she looks skeptical at him. "And if I find out that… he is plotting or… whatever, then…?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," she says, ripping off a corner of the toasted bread. "Until then, we stick to the original plan."

"We had a plan?"

She nods. "The plan was for me to kick your ass in court."

"Ah, right," he laughs, ripping off a corner of his own sandwich. "And this time, I'd gladly let you."

Her grin warms as she settles back, and he can't help the soft chuckle that rises up from his chest. "Let me," she scoffs. "You're hilarious."

She'd sat in her car, parked just around the block from Robin and Regina's apartment, trying to compose herself, but it seemed that every time she came close, she'd find herself in tears again. It was a hot June day and the thought of ordering a tall glass of lemonade from Granny's and settling herself in front of a fan in the apartment was a tempting one, but she didn't want to ruin their evening.

Robin was making them all dinner–gazpacho, at her request–and he'd spent the day making soup and baking tortillas and smacking avocados into guacamole. She'd supplied the ingredients to make margaritas, and it still made her grin at the way Regina pouted when they put her in charge of securing a baguette to dip into the soup, claiming this was something she'd be good at making and citing all sorts of childhood memories of Latin eating cuisine with her father's side of the family. It'd been adorable the way that she lit up when she talked about it and it wasn't long before a light summer dinner turned into a sweet little date night. Robin was confident he could string up some paper lanterns and made the food and she'd been put in charge of securing the necessities for margaritas and some music for entertainment, while Regina was put in charge of desert–a task she took very seriously.

The plan had been she would show up early that day. She'd pick up Regina and they'd head to the library in search of the music and a cookbook that would supply them with a list of what they needed to make lemon granita. From there, they'd head to the market and see what they could find, and hopefully, by then, the soup would be cooling. It was supposed to be lighthearted and fun; they were supposed to be the escape that saved her sanity, and she'd be damned if she was going to let Stefan Perrault and his tantrums ruin that.

Wiping away her tears, she took a long, deep breath and looked into the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were red and swollen, and her make-up had run–and for the life of her, she couldn't remember packing her make-up bag. She fished around in her bag for a couple of minutes, biting down on her bottom lip as she realized it wasn't there and as she put the car into reverse to back out of the space she'd been camped out in, she wondered if she could pass all of this off as a pollen allergy.

And as soon as she walked into Granny's, she knew that she couldn't.

As soon as she stepped into the diner, Granny's brow had furrowed and her head tipped questioningly to the side. She'd tossed down the cloth she'd been using to wipe the counter and rounded to the front of it, offering a warm hug that made it increasingly difficult to stave off her tears. Of course, Granny was no stranger to her fights with Stefan and her family, and though she never pressed for more information than Mal was willing to give, she was soft and empathetic and always knew how to make it better.

Granny offered up three lemonades and when she tried to pay, Granny refused, insisting that this round was on the house–and as she thanked her, a sweet yet sly little grin pulled onto her lips as she leaned in and confessed the batch had more than a splash of gin in it, and if necessary, the whole pitcher could be hers.

Again, she offered her thanks as Granny plunged a straw into one of the glasses and as she sipped the lemonade, she started up the stairs to Robin and Regina's apartment, reminding herself that what was done was done, and there was no changing Stefan's mind about anything, and in the end, his opinion hardly mattered. What did matter was what was waiting for her upstairs…

"Hello?" She calls out as she turns the open door knob, drawing in a deep breath and slowly releasing it in an effort to keep her composure. "Robin? Regina?"

"In the kitchen," Robin calls back, eliciting a slight but genuine grin. "Come try this! It tastes good, but I don't know if it tastes the way gazpacho is suppose to taste."

"Then, isn't that all that matters? That it tastes good?"

"Maybe," he calls, laughing softly. "But try it, anyway!"

"Okay," she says, dropping her overnight bag down by the door. "Granny gave us some lemonade. It's spiked with–" She stops as she pushes into the kitchen and a soft laugh escapes her, when she finds Robin standing in front of the counter, slicing a jalapeno pepper in nothing other than a pair of blue and green striped boxer shorts. "You're… not dressed."

"I'm dressed… enough."

"You're in your underwear."

He shrugs dismissively. "Its like ninety degrees and I've been cooking all day. It seemed–" He stops as he looks up at her, his smile fading instantly. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," she lies, shrugging dismissively. "Just… pollen and…"

"Mal."

"I'm fine."

"You've been crying."

"No," she says, shaking her head unconvincingly as she tries to sound aloof. "I had the top down on the car on the way over and…"

Her voice trails off as he sets down the knife, turning to the sink and rinsing his hands, and before she can find her voice again or think up another lie, he's moving toward her. He takes the cardboard cup holder from her and sets it on the counter, and then his arms fold around, drawing her in and holding her tightly. And he just holds her, cupping the back of her head and not asking for details, only offering comfort. He rubs circles against her back as her head falls to his shoulder, and she feels her chest tightening and her eyes burn in an effort to hold in her tears; and when he tells her that it's okay to cry, that he has her and that he loves her, and that she safe there with him, she can't help but believe him–and can't but let it out.

"Come on," he murmurs. "Let's go sit down."

Nodding, she pulls back, watching the way he grins–so full of care–as he swipes away her tears and leads her into the living room. He sits back on the couch and she pulls up her feet as she cuddles into him, and for awhile, they just sit together and he lets her cry until it seems she's cried all the tears she has to cry–and when she pulls her head up, she smiles a bit awkwardly, wiping her hand over his shoulder.

"You're all wet now."

"That's okay," he says easily. "No harm's been done."

"I really didn't mean to show up here like this and ruin–"

"You haven't ruined anything," he says, in a voice that's so soft and sincere that she nearly believes him. She draws in a breath and nods, watching as he leans forward, and it's only then that she realizes he brought out on the lemonades with him. "Drink up. It'll help."

Nodding, she takes the glass, cradling it in her hands as she leans back and his arm stretches around her shoulders.

It does help, she thinks, as she grins a bit awkwardly over at him.

Or maybe he does.

Or the combination of the two do…

"I don't suppose you want to talk about it?"

"Not really," she admits, cradingly the cold glass between her hands. "It's just… more of the same. I don't want to bore you with the details."

"I wouldn't be bored," he says in a soft voice with an easy shrug. "If you want to vent, even if it's something I've heard before–" His voice halts as understanding fills his eyes. "Stefan's back from school."

"For two weeks."

"Just two weeks?"

"He failed marketing or… something like that," she sighs. "He has to go back and re-take an accelerated version course."

Robin's brow furrows. "And… this is a bad thing that he won't be around all summer?"

"He's upset. He blames me."

"Because you're the one taking an unusually long time to finish a degree at a costly university… and you failed an introduction course in your major?"

A little grin tugs up at the corner of her mouth. "Apparently, those two weeks he spent back here, made him fail his final." She shrugs. "He claims I kept him so busy he didn't have any study time."

"From what I recall, you did everything you could to get out of those events. It was your father and his that insisted the two of you attend them."

"That's true," she admits, nodding as she draws in a breath. "But didn't you know, everything is my fault."

His jaw tightens. "Is that what he said?"

She nods, shrugging dismissively. "Apparently, because I made him go to all of those stupid events, I made him fail his course, and now I've made it impossible for him to take Rose up to the vineyard, like they'd planned."

Robin's eyes widen a bit. "Rose, as in…"

"His girlfriend."

"Right. I… knew that."

"We got into a nasty fight and…" She sighs, pulling back a little as she releases a shaky breath. She doesn't want to tell him the details of it. She doesn't want to think about how he'd come into the dining room as her family had been finishing up brunch or the way he smiled at her father and complimented her mother's dress as he stared at her with hard eyes; and she doesn't want to tell him how her stomach had dropped when her parents excused themselves, leaving them alone or how he'd waited until they were certainly out of earshot before unleashing his anger on her.

He felt trapped–because of her. Everything he wanted was out of reach–because of her. The life he wanted to have was one he'd never have–because of her. He couldn't concentrate–because of her. And now, he was disappointing someone he actually loved–because of her.

And on some level, that was true.

Their fathers were business partners and, in an effort to consolidate the families' fortunes, they needed to marry. She'd inherit her father's half and he'd inherit his father's half, and then their child would inherit it all. It was neat and simple, and an utter disaster.

She nearly flinches at the memory of him throwing a crystal glass at the wall and the sound it made as it shattered, just inches from her, before he'd stormed off, muttering something about taking Rose out to lunch to make it up to her.

"You know what? No." She shakes her head and sniffs back at her tears, and forces a smile. "He ruined my morning, I'm not going to let him ruin my afternoon, too."

"To hell with him."

And before she can laugh, Regina steps into the apartment–and an involuntary smile tugs onto her lips. She's wearing a lavender button up that's tied just above her navel with short sleeves are rolled up and tied with white ribbons and a pair of too-short white shorts. Her hair is pinned up in a bun atop of her head and she's carrying an oversized tote bag–and she looks absolutely adorable.

"To hell with who?" She asks, looking between them.

"Stefan."

She watches as Regina's jaw tenses. "What did he do now?"

"It's not important…"

"It is, if it hurt you," Regina says dropping down her tote bag. "I hate that whenever he's around–"

"He's not worth the energy, Regina," Mal says, with a decisive nod. "It's too hot and–" She stops, laughing softly. "And quite frankly, I just don't want to talk about it. I just… want to forget about him and the fight and… everything else for a little while, okay?"

"Okay," Regina murmurs. "I won't bring it up again." She chews at her lip, and for a moment, they all just sit there together in heavy silence–and then, Regina gets up. She grabs her tote bag and grins. "I think we need to get this party started a little earlier."

"Oh," she murmurs, holding up her lemonade. "Granny beat you to that."

But Regina shakes her head as she and Robin exchange curious glances–and then, she can't help but smile as she pulls a bottle of rumchata from her bag. "When my grandmother was still around, she used to make these milkshakes for my dad that was I never allowed to have." She grins a bit nostalgically as she looks at the bottle. "My parents always got into terrible fights and sometimes after the really bad ones, my dad would take me and we'd spend a few days with grandparents. That's when she'd make the shakes. She said they patched up the soul."

"Just being her–"

"No," Regina cuts in, shaking her head as she comes toward her, taking her hand and leading her around the couch. "You're going to go change out of that dress and into something cooler and take a quick shower, and I'll make us all some shakes."

Mal watches as grin pulls onto her lips as Robin's arm slips around Regina's waist. "I'll help," he says.

Biting down on her lip, she looks between them–and she just can't resist. "With the shakes or with my shower?"

She laughs as his brows arch and he looks to Regina, who grins and nods, then Regina pushes him toward her. "Just be quick. These shakes won't take too long and–"

"What if I want both of you?"

Regina blinks and a little laugh escapes her as she sets the rumchata down on the end table. "I guess we could have the shakes afterward to cool us down again."

"Seems like a perfect plan," Mal decides as she takes her hand and tugs her toward the bedroom, determined to lose herself in them for a bit and forget all about her unfortunate finance and their fight.

"I cannot believe how good this is," Regina says, blinking up at her as she lifts her feet onto the coffee table. "How did you have time to make this?"

A little laugh bubbles up into her voice as she sinks down beside her on the couch. "Well, it's not like I have much else to do these days."

Regina's smile fades a bit and her eyes darken. "You know you're not supposed to go–"

"Regina, it's fine," she says with a sigh. "I needed some are."

"I understand that, I just–"

"I wanted to do something nice for the two of you," Mal says, cutting in as her eyes widen. "You've been so good to me and–"

"It's not–"

"Don't say it's nothing," Mal cuts in, her voice rising over Regina's. "Because it's hardly nothing."

For a moment, Regina doesn't say anything and the silence between them is heavy–and she's so tired of everything feeling heavy.

"Besides, I enjoy cooking," she says, attempting to shift the subject.

Regina laughs, her expression changing "I don't understand why."

Mal shrugs as she looks down at the little cup of lemon creme brulee. "It passes the time and…" Her voice catches in her throat, trailing off as her eyes meet Regina's again. "I've missed you two, and this lets me do something special, something to repay–"

"You don't need to repay us."

"Regina," Mal says, her brows arching. "This has been difficult for both of you. It's put you two in a really complicated situation that–."

"But that's not your fault," Robin says, as he sits comes into the living room with a corkscrew and a bottle of wine. "And before you say anymore," he says, looking pointedly at her as he drives the corkscrew into the cork. "This is not an opportunity to confess anything to me."

Regina nods, her eyes widening as she looks to her. "You really do need to stop doing that."

"But I–"

"Mal!"

She laughs a little and settles back, feeling oddly at ease as she plucks one of the candied lemon wedges from the creme brulee, watching as Robin tops off their glasses. Perhaps it's all the riesling they had at dinner or just the comfort that comes with being close with them again–or maybe it's a mix of the two–but for the first time in longer than she can remember, she feels comfortable.

That morning, she'd woken up early–still, later than both of them, though, but early enough to catch them before they left for their respective offices–and make them breakfast. It'd been nothing complicated, but she liked doing something for them–and so after they left, for the first time since coming to stay with them, she ventured out of the house. She headed to a little market on the corner and stocked up on vegetables. The woman behind the counter pointed her in the direction of the butcher and the bakery, and on the way, she'd stumbled upon another little marker that sold mostly Italian-inspired groceries. A cute little old man who sold her some fresh noodles and some spices, and by the end of the morning, she had three bags of groceries.

She'd come back to the house and washed the vegetables, chopping them up before putting the chicken into the oven to roast. She opened up all of the kitchen windows and a nice summer breeze blew through as she worked on a cream sauce for the pasta–and it was almost like it was before, or at least, she could pretend that it was…

They'd surprised her by coming home earlier than anticipated.

They'd come into together just before two. Robin helped with the rest of the dinner while she got started on the desert, and Regina busied herself in the with the wine selection, teasing that she was purposefully staying out of the way as to not mess up dinner. After choosing the wine–a light, crisp apple riesling–she set the table and lit some candles.

At dinner, one bottle of wine had turned into two, and when Robin suggested they move into the living room with their deserts, he handed his off to Regina and went to grab a third bottle of wine. She followed Regina into the living room, finding that her head was a bit dizzier than she'd realized and her stomach much fuller; but, her shoulders were relaxed and for the first time in long than she could remember, she wasn't filled with a sense of dread or worry about what would come next.

Robin flicked on the record player just before sitting down with them and Regina handed him her desert before swinging her legs up over his lap. Mal watched as he rubbed his free hand over her legs and grinned at her as her fell back back onto her shoulder, with little hesitation, Mal tilted her head to rest gently against Regina's.

"I love her voice," Regina murmured absently, as she dragged her spoon through the creme brulee.

"You always have."

"Mm, do you remember that night her concert was played over the radio?"

"The one with Webb's Orchestra?"

"Yeah…"

"That was a good one," Robin agrees. "I have… very fond memories of that night."

A grin pulls onto Mal's lips–fond memories, indeed.

It'd been raining and she and Regina had been cuddled up underneath blanket, listening to Ella Fitzgerald perform with Chick Webb's orchestra. It was cool that night, so they'd built up a fire and opened up some wine, and for awhile, they'd just laid together, listening.

It hadn't taken long before they were kissing, their hands exploring one another–and by the time Robin came in, about half way through the concert, Regina's hand and was up her shirt and her lips were on her neck. She'd grinned at Robin as her hand slipped into the front of Regina's panties and she watched they he stood there, swallowing hard as he watched her hand move beneath the blanket, watching as she fingered Regina.

Eventually, Regina held out a hand to him, inviting him over and it hadn't taken long for him to find his place–and they'd spent the rest of the concert kissing and teasing, touching and keeping the others warm.

"I didn't want that evening to end."

"I don't want this evening to end," Robin says as he looks between them as a little grin edges onto his lips.

"You look like you have something in mind," Regina says, licking the back of her spoon and pouting a little at the empty bowl in her palm.

"I do," he nods, taking the bowl from her and then handing each of them "I was… thinking about this morning and how nice it'd have been to… sleep in a little and…" He shrugs and settles back against the couch cushions. "It' just be nice to keep drinking and just see where the night takes us."

Mal blinks as she looks at him, taking a sip of the wine, enjoying the way the riesling tastes with the lemon in the dessert, and not really thinking much beyond that.

"Can you manage a late morning?" Regina says, her fingers twisting around the stem of her glass. "I know I can, but–"

"Gold probably didn't even realized that I never came back from lunch."

Mal blinks again, and this time, her shoulders tense a little. "You.. probably shouldn't push it with him."

"The less he and I see of each other, the better," Robin says, shrugging dismissively as he takes a sip of the wine. "Besides, it's the end of the week."

"Still, I don't want you getting yourself into trouble." Both Robin and Regina look to her. Regina's head rises from her shoulder as Robin's brow furrows. "You're already treading on thin ice… because of me."

"Not because of you," Robin insists. She sighs. It is because of her and her presence in their lives–why else would the District Attorney have any other trepidation about his newest ADA? "Mal, none of this–"

"But is is my fault. I just catapulted myself into–"

"We want you here," Regina says, cutting in, and shaking her head. "And once you're free of–"

"What if Robin loses his job?" Mal hears herself ask as her chest tightens. "What if–"

"I have options." Blinking, she looks to him and from the corner of her eye, she sees a little grin tugging . "When I joined the District Attorney's office, I had… a very specific idea of what that was going to be like and it's been somewhat of a disappointment."

"Sure, but–"

"I wanted to help get justice for people who'd been hurt. I didn't want to protect men like Stefan Perrault."

She nods as she feels tears welling up in her eyes, but for the life of her she can't quite find the words to say what she wants to say. "And if you lose your license?"

"We'll cross that road when–"

"Robin."

"Mal, he's right," Regina says, reaching out and rubbing her hand over her arm. "There are some things that are far more important to us than our careers, and you are absolutely one of them."

"But you have a family to–"

"We'd be fine," Robin says, his voice calm and light, with no indication of alarm or distress. "And there's no need in worrying about something that hasn't happened yet."

"Sure, but–"

"But nothing," Regina says, her voice as calm as his.

"It's just, this was… your dream and I'm coming dangerously close to torpedoing your entire life with my–"

Robin shrugs. "It wasn't my only dream." He smiles as his eyes shift to Regina, and then they both look back at her. "And recently, I've been reminded of just how happy I can be."

"We both have."

She looks between them and draws in a shaky breath. There are a hundred reasons she shouldn't allow this to go any further and there were a hundred reasons that she shouldn't have reached out to them for support–and yet, as she sat with them now, with them looking at her the way that they were, it was hard to remember any of those reasons. Her throat tightens and her chest flutters. It's been so long since anyone considered her feelings or made her a priority, and though she disagrees with their choice to do that, she has to admit, it feels good.

"You're sweet," she manages. "Both of you are."

She watches as they exchange a look and then Regina, looks back at her. She swallows hard as Regina twists around and away from Robin, sitting up and downing what's left of her wine. Robin sits back, taking a sip of his wine as Regina sets her empty glass onto the coffee table, watching as she twists around and places both of her hands on either side of Mal. "Do you know what this song always makes me think of?"

Mal swallows hard, her heart beating so loudly, she can barely hear the music. "Um, n-no…"

Regina's eyes focus down on her lips and then slowly, turn back up to meet hers–and a little smile tugs up at the corner of her mouth. "How good you taste."

Mal feels her cheeks flush and a memory flickers–a memory of that night when they'd listened to Ella Fitzgerald's concert. She'd leaned back against against Robin, smiling up at him as he bent to kiss her as Regina shifted herself between her legs.

"Come to bed with us," she says, her breath warm and her voice low. "I wanna taste you again."

Swallowing hard, she feels herself nod.

Regina's eyes flash with triumph, the way they do whenever she gets something that she really wants, and she feels herself smile, licking her lips as Regina leans in closer, hovering teasingly close and just waiting–waiting and leaving it up to her.

Robin shifts himself over, one hand rubbing at her arm and the other over Regina's back, and he looks to her, with that same sweet expectation.

It's been so long since anyone's looked at her the way that they are and so long since the decision was her to make, and she's lost track of the times that she allowed herself to get caught up in even just the fantasy of a moment like this one–and so drawing in a quick breath, she lets herself indulge… just this once.

"Let's go upstairs," Robin says, his voice low and husky. "We'll all be more comfortable."

Regina pulls back, nodding as she reaches for her hand, pulling her up with her, and before she can even find her footing, Regina's lips are crashing down onto hers. Her breath catches and her heart flutters as Robin's hand swipes up her back and his lips settle momentarily at the crook of her neck.

It takes a while, but they make their way to the bedroom, losing articles of clothing as they go.

Robin's hand presses into the small of her back as he draws her in, kissing her fully on the lips as Regina circles around her, sliding her fingers into the thin waistband of her panties and slipping them down her legs. She steps out of them, not breaking the kiss as her legs hit the back of the bed–and from there, she lets Robin guide her down onto her back.

She can feel his cock pressing into her thigh as he hovers over her, still kissing her as his fingers push into her hair. A little tingle runs down her spine as she feels Regina sit down on the bed, her fingers ghosting up and down her leg as she watches them kiss.

He breaks the kiss and she she sucks in a breath as he rolls off of her, settling at her side, and then as she looks from him to Regina, she can't help the smile the edges over her lips. Regina's kneeling at her side on the bed, her hands rubbing slowly over her knees as her tongue swipes over her bottom lip. She looks so sexy in her lacy black bra and her dark eyes are hooded and filled with such a tantalizing mix of lust and love.

Swallowing hard, she pulls herself up onto her elbows as her legs fall open and she watches as a sly little grin edges onto Regina's lips. At her side, Robin repositions himself, tugging off his boxers and stretching an arm around her shoulders, whispering her for her lean back and enjoy.

So, she does.

She's already so wet and Regina's breath is warm–and when her tongue circles around her clit, she practically comes, right then and there.

And Regina knows it.

She looks up at her, grinning before she leans back in, licking the length of her as her fingers knead at her hips. Regina takes her time, her tongue lapping and swirling in a way that's so wonderfully familiar.

Robin's finger's rub gently at her shoulder as he leans in for another kiss, and slowly, she finds herself reaching for his cock. Her fingers wrap around the hard shaft, slowly moving up and down as they kiss, and when Regina's finger slips inside of her, her breath catches and she moans softly into his kiss–and she feel him smile against her lips.

And for just a little while, everything feels so right.

Mal laughs out as Robin pulls her to him, folding his arm around her as Regina rolls onto her side, tickling her neck and shoulder with fluttering kisses–and it's so tempting to let this go on.

Robin's hand presses to the small of her back and Regina's tongue flicks at her earlobe, and again she laughs. "You're not allowed to leave," Robin tells her, his voice soft and low. "You're stuck here with us."

"I just said I wanted some coffee," she says. "I was going to come right back." Regina's lips slip back to her neck and she draws in a breath as her head falls back, allowing her more access to her. "But…ohh…"

Regina pulls back and Mal turns her head to look at her, pouting at the loss of contact. "Coffee does sound nice."

Mal grins as she looks to Robin. "It looks like it's two against one." She laughs when Robin pouts–and then, he nonetheless sighs and lets her go. "I promise," she says, looking between them. "I'll be right back."

Getting out of bed is a bit awkward, given that she's in the middle between them both and Robin doesn't do much to move out of the way–but she manages, pulling the loose sheet along with her and wrapping it around herself. She grins back at them as Robin's brow arches and Regina cuddles into his side.

"What?"

"You… realize we've seen it all before," he says. "There's no need to cover up."

"You two have, but I'm not sure I want to give your neighbors a free show," she says, tipping up her chin and clasping the sheet just above her chest. "I'm just not that kind of girl."

Regina rolls onto her side and grins up at her. "You could take my robe, you know."

She laughs again, she says, shrugging her shoulders as she tucks the sheet so that her hands can be free. "This is more fun."

Regina's eyes roll, but Robin laughs and she takes one last look at them from over her shoulder before padding out into the living room of their apartment. She grins as she looks around, noting the wine glasses and dessert plates they'd abandoned the night before, all of them deciding they were simply too tired to clean up.

They'd fallen asleep easily–all of them, tangled together on the bed that wasn't meant to accommodate three adults yet barely fit into the tiny bedroom of the apartment. She loved staying over, though, despite being a little cramped, and she always slept so much better here than she did anywhere else.

She twists the knob and watches the burner on the stove ignite and then, she reaches for the Moka Pot, a forgotten relic of a long ago family vacation to Italy that she'd found and brought to them when their old coffee maker finally burned out. Quickly, she filled the pot's bottom and added the coffee grounds to the filter–and then, she sets it on the stove as she opens the cabinet, pulling out three mugs. She taps her feet impatiently as she finds a tray and lines up the mugs, every now and then glancing back to the bedroom with a little grin as she fills a little cup with cream and sprinkles a little sugar into the bottom of two of the mugs, and then some cinnamon into the one she claims for herself.

Finally, after what seems like an absolute eternity, the water begins to boil. She turns off the stove and sets the pot on the tray, carefully lifting it as she makes her way back to the living room–and then her bag catches her eye. She grins a little coyly as she sets down the tray and opens her bag, fishing around in it until she finds her camera–and then, clipping on the strap, she pulls it over her shoulder and lifts the tray and pads back to the room.

A smile draws onto her lips as she enters the room, and she wishes she wasn't carrying the tray and she had her camera ready.

Robin and Regina are laying together. His arm his around her and her head is on his shoulder, and they're just staring up at the ceiling listening to the rain. Robin's playing with her hair and they look so sweet together, so content and relaxed, and it's the sort of moment she'd love to capture–the sort of moment she could look back on in the years to come, the sort of moment that'd never lose its warmth or ability to make her smile.

The tray rattles and they both look over at her, watching as she comes in and sets the tray on the dresser. She grins at them through the mirror and pours their coffee–careful to ensure that Regina's is black and Robin's has just a dash milk and sugar–and she slips the camera onto the dresser, then turns to them, grinning as she shrugs off the sheet.

She can't help but giggle as their expressions change, suddenly a little more alert and interested, and she hands them their coffee before turning back to the dresser to mix her own–and every few seconds, she can't help but grin at the way they look at her as they sip their coffee.

Again, it's a moment she'd love to capture.

Her coffee in one hand and her camera in the other, she turns back to the bed–and Regina's brows arch.

"What… is that for?"

She shrugs as she sits at the foot of the bed. "I thought it'd be nice to snap a few pictures of us."

"Of… the three of us?" Regina asks, her eyes going wide. "In bed together." Mal nods and looks between them. "Pictures that someone would have to develop."

"Pictures that I would have to develop," Mal says, gently correcting her as she squeezes her foot. "Don't worry. They'd be for private use only, of course."

At that, a grin twists onto Regina's lips and Robin clears his throat. "For private use, hm?"

Mal's eyes roll and her shoulders square. "Get your mind out of the gutter," she says, scolding him playfully. "I just think that it's quite pathetic that I've never taken any pictures of us, especially given that I take pictures of everything."

"It's hard to do that," Robin teases, "Considering the three of us our sitting naked together in bed… and considering what the three of us were doing only an hour ago."

Mal's eyes roll, but Regina frowns. "That's not true," she says, looking between them. "You brought your camera when we all went ice-skating that one time and when we–"

Mal shakes her head. "And I took pictures of the trees and the rink. The two of you aren't in a single one, much less the three of us."

"Oh…"

She bites down on her lip, watching as they sip their coffee–and she finds herself reaching for her camera, and quickly working off the lens cap. Before they even realize what she's doing, she's already snapped their first picture–one of them looking so pensive and natural together. When the camera flashes and Robin blinks and his lips part in surprise, a giggle escapes her and she snaps another picture.

It's not long before she's set her coffee down on the floor before she's up on her knees and instructing Robin to put his arm around Regina. He laughs but obliges and without needing to be prompted, Regina rests her head on his shoulder and looks up at Mal, offering the softest little smile for the camera.

Robin bends his head, pressing a kiss to Regina's hair–and again, she snaps a picture.

She takes a few more–one of Regina laughing and another of Robin pulling her closer–and then, just as she's about to take another, they both sit up and pulls her down between them. They're all laughing as she rolls onto her back and she feels Robin pull away the camera as Regina's hand slides up over her cheek, drawing her into a kiss. She hears the camera lens opening and shutting, and she's vaguely aware of the camera's flash as Robin takes pictures of them–and then, just as she's starting to lose herself in it Robin leans in and presses his lips to her shoulder as he takes another picture.

She lets out a breathy sigh as Regina lips trail away from hers and she blinks a couple of times, watching as Robin hands the camera to Regina, giving her a turn. She can't help but grin as she turns her head toward him and he pecks at her lips before rolling onto his back and pulling her on top of him. She laughs out and Regina snaps a picture–and then she takes another as Robin sits up and wraps his arms around her back. Her hands rest on his shoulders, and for a moment, all she can do is stare at him with him dimpled smile and messy hair.

"Come here," she says, waving Regina over as she takes the camera back and takes hold of her hand. "I want a few of all three of us."

Robin lays back and Mal rolls to his side as Regina cuddles into the other. His arms are around them and Mal lifts the camera high above them, taking a picture of them just like that–and then, she giggles and tells Regina to kiss Robin's cheek as she does the same. She takes a picture like that and a few others like it–some looking serious and thoughtful, others with intentionally silly faces and then some completely candid moments.

Mal lowers the camera and looks down at the dial. "Only one left," she says, frowning as she looks between them. "We should save it."

"That was fun," Robin says, reaching for his coffee on the nightstand. "We should–"

"Well, you obviously enjoyed yourself," Regina cuts in, chuckling softly as her brow arches as she looks down at his lap. "Quite a bit, by the looks of it."

Mal follows her gaze and grins at Robin's budding erection. "Oh, come on," he says, his eyes widen as he looks incredulously to Regina. "You two were all over me, and all over each other. You really expect me not to… react to that?"

Mal rubs her hand over his arm. She licks her lips as her eyes slide to Regina, and she grins as Regina's eyes shift down to Robin's cock–and she watches as Mal lowers herself, taking him into her mouth. She grins as she pulls back and momentarily, her eyes meet Regina's as her tongue swirls around the tip of Robin's cock and he lets out a low and breathy sigh that's full of contentment. She sinks back down slowly, her tongue flatting against his shaft–and again, her eyes turn up, watching as Robin's arm folds around Regina's shoulders and her tongue parts his lips, and he moans into her kiss.

She watches them for awhile, feeling her own arousal building–and then, before she even realizes it, Regina lifts the camera and snaps the last picture of them. Robin's eyes widen as he breaks their kiss and Mal pulls herself off of him, her jaw dropping as she looks at Regina.

"What?" She asks with an innocent shrug. "I thought it might be fun to have a sexy one."

"Did you?"

"Mmhmm," she says, blinking as she looks between them and a sly little grin edges onto her lips. "These pictures are for private use, aren't they?"

Mal can't stop herself from laughing out as Robin's arm tightens around her shoulders and he pushes her back against the pillows. And when Regina laughs into his kiss, Mal again finds herself smiling a bit wistfully. She knows she can't keep them and this little world they're living in isn't meant to last–and she finds herself wishing that this were another moment she could capture because it's one she'd like to remember, always.

And then, before she can get too far ahead of herself and worry about things she doesn't yet have to, Robin reaches out and pulls her to them—and she happily loses herself in the moment with them.

He sits at his desk, his thoughts swimming with Regina and Mal, and the past few nights with them.

It'd given him a glimpse of the life he thought was behind them.

When Mal left, it left them in a tailspin, and for months, all he could think about were the things they never said, the topics they always pushed aside. They didn't have a solid plan for the future. It'd all been stolen moments and living in the present, but they'd all thought about what the future might look like for them–even if it it went unsaid.

Smiling, he looks to the double frame on his desk, one side holds a photograph of Roland and Henry from the summer before, standing on a stump in the middle of the woods up at John's cabin, and in the frame beside it, a picture of Regina and the boys, sitting by a campfire ready to roast s'mores. They'd spent two weeks there, and he loved it–and so did the boys.

It reminded him on the summer during his undergrad that he'd worked in a state park, and he was glad to share that experience with his sons. They woke up early and went on hikes through the woods, he taught them thing about the animals that lived there and the types of plants that grew there, and they spend their afternoon keeping cool in by lake. They fished and swam, and once the sun went down, they all cuddled up by the fire and told stories.

And, of course, they just didn't talk about the fact that they were only mile away from a cottage that Mal's family owned or the happy memories they'd created there years before…

On some level, he now wondered if it'd been that experience summer that pushed him into the change of jobs had been subconsciously influenced by that summer trip and the reminder that once upon a time he'd envisioned himself practicing environmental law. But after graduation, things changed. The jobs that he wanted were scares and the ones available were clear across the country–and year later, he had a child to think about and his priorities shifted. Then, in an odd stroke of fate, Regina's mother passed away and her trust fund was suddenly available to her; and gladly, he'd agreed to open up a firm.

It was stable, it was lucrative and it allowed him to work closely with Regina, and he'd loved the year they'd spent working together. Their schedule was flexible and it allowed them to be parents, and he was grateful to not have missed out on sons' childhoods, that he got to play an active part. People always asked them how they managed to raise a family with Regina choosing to work, and he never quite knew how to respond to that, other than to say they'd been lucky–because they had been.

Henry and Roland were growing up to be kind-hearted and thoughtful boys. They were curious and observant, and full of energy and empathy–and everything he did was meant to be an example to them.

Sighing, his head fell back against his chair as he looked away from the picture–and he found a now-familiar dull ache returning to his temples.

And, of course, that's when Gold knocked on the frame of his door.

"You're looking awfully pensive."

"I've got a bit of a headache, truthfully," Robin admits, lifting his head to look at him. "I was hoping to shut my eyes for a–"

"You know," Gold cuts in, not allowing him to finish. "I've been thinking about our conversation earlier this week." Robin nods as he feels his jaw tighten. "Have there been any.. new developments?"

"No," he replied flatly. "Still not enough to argue that what happened between the Perraults was anything other than–"

"Robin," Gold interjects as a low laugh rises into his voice. "From everything I've heard about Millicent Perrault, she's flighty and aloof. Cold and unaffectionate, and not really the sort of person whose grounded in reality, you know?" It takes everything in him to bite his tongue. That isn't Mal at all. "Surely, there's something there you can work with."

"None of those things could make her guilty."

Gold's eyes narrow. "Is that what your wife would say?"

"I don't know," he lies. "My wife and I are barely speaking these days."

"A pity."

He huffs in response. This isn't a conversation he wants to have.

"So, tell me," Gold says, leaning in and resting his elbows on the edge of the desk. "What is a day like in the Locksley household these days?"

"Well, for starters, it's the Mills-Locksley household and…" His voice trails off and he takes a breath, gritting his teeth as he plays along. "It's tense."

"Your wife really doesn't understand how the world works."

"Excuse me?"

"Well, it's cute that she's been allowed to–"

"No one allows Regina to do anything. She makes her own choices."

"Mm, it's just a pity that she doesn't seem to understand the rules," Gold says with a dismissive shrug. "And if you don't play by the rules, then that just can't end well for her."

Once more, his jaw tightens. "Is… that a threat?"

"No" Gold laughs. "You're mistaken if you took it that way. I just mean… I afraid your wife's in a bit over her head, and with you not there to help–"

"She's fine without me. She's perfectly competent and a damn good–"

"Again, you misunderstand me. This isn't a dig at your wife. I'm just merely stating the facts. She seems to be working with an idealized version of reality. Guilt and innocence don't matter here."

"But it does matter. It's the whole point of–"

Gold shakes his head. "It's far more complicated than that."

"It shouldn't be."

"But it is," Gold says easily, clearly unbothered. "Families like the Perraults have a lot of power and–"

"Doesn't Millicent's family have–"

Gold laughs before he can finish. "It's one in the same. She's nothing without him." His eyes narrow and he feels a burst of emotion. Mal has never been nothing and though he can't defend her, he wants to. "Look, I'm not saying it's fair. I'm just saying this is how it works. The Perraults have been good to this office, to this city and, it's be a shame for us to let them down when they need us."

Robin blinks, remember the conversation he and Regina had in her office–and he nods.

Gold wishes him a good day as he rises, reminding him that the clock is ticking and if he needs help with the case, just to ask. It was an odd offer and it seemed, that despite the was he presented himself, he was beginning to panic. It was clear that Leopold Perrault, or someone in the family, was pushing for a conviction, and Gold's comments about guilt not actually mattering made him think that the Perrault's knew Mal acted in self-defense. They just didn't care. Protecting their name and their power was more important than an in-law they never wanted and had always been a complication for them.

And though he can't quite yet wrapped his head around it, he couldn't help but think that boded well for Regina, and for Mal.

Sometimes, Mal is like a bolt of energy–and sometimes, she's a shock to the system.

For the most part, the time she and Robin spend with Mal has been very planned out with few surprises. That wasn't to say that she wasn't around a lot, and rarely did a week pass where they didn't see her at least once; but still, that time was planned around class schedules and the odd jobs she and Robin would do here-and-there for extra cash. They always had to consider Mal's family obligations and the fiance whose existence they preferred to ignore, and though no one seemed to notice or care whenever she disappeared on a random Tuesday or even for a few days at a time, she was careful not to create a pattern and always provided plausible excuses to account for her whereabouts.

They were careful.

They had to be.

And as much as they hated that, they were used to it.

They'd been caught up in a conversation about the lecture they'd just left and a possible internship opportunity that'd be presented that evening–and of course, it'd been offered to Robin and not her, despite her higher grade point average.

Robin's initial response was excitement–and then she'd bristled and he felt guilty.

It wasn't that she wasn't proud of him and it wasn't that didn't want to him to take the internship; in fact, her annoyance hadn't had anything to do with him at all. She worked hard to stay at the top of her class and no matter how hard she worked, she was perpetually in a position where she had to prove herself while the others in her cohort, by this point, had earned respect and opportunities that would further their careers and give them experience her hard work could never replace.

Robin offered to turn it down, but that didn't seem fair–and ultimately, in the end, what benefitted him would benefit her.

Or, at least, that's what she kept reminding herself of.

"I just… need to take a shower," she sighs as Robin fumbles with the key. "I'll be fine after that."

"No, you won't," he says, looking back at her. "And you shouldn't."

"Robin, there's nothing that–"

Her voice halts as the door opens and the first thing she notices is the light–a light she absolutely turned off before class–and then, before she can process that, Mal comes bursting out of the kitchen announcing that she's glad they're finally home. She rushes toward them, kissing the each as she takes their books and backs, dropping them off next to her overnight bag that sits on a bench by the door, and then, she grabs their hands, practically dragging them to the couch.

Despite her annoyance, Regina can't help but laugh as Mal sits down across from them. "I just couldn't wait," she says, reaching behind herself on the coffee table and pulling a folder onto her lap–and then her smile fades as she looks between them. "But maybe I should have."

"No," Regina's quick to say, reaching out and touching her fingers to the hem of Mal's skirt, sitting at her knee. "I'm glad you're here. I'm just… grumpy."

"I got an internship offer," Robin tells her.

"Oh, that's–" Momentarily, she brightens and then, she fades. "Oh."

"I'll get over it," Regina says, shrugging. "I just–"

"It's shitty," Mal says. "You keep getting passed over for–"

"I just need to sulk for a bit. I'll be fine." Robin sighs and his lips part as she looks sharply toward him. "But you are not allowed to turned this down. It's not… chivalrous or… whatever. It'd be stupid and you deserve–"

"And you don't?"

"Robin…" She sighs, looking between them as she shakes her head. "You turning down an internship doesn't mean it'd go to me. It'd just go to the next… male."

"You don't–"

"I don't want it like that." She shakes her head. "I don't want to be offered something because someone else didn't want it." She shrugs. "Maybe this… just wasn't a good fit for me, you know?"

"It's still shitty," Mal says, rubbing her hand over Regina's. "Can I… do anything?" She grins. "I could go and get some stupidly expensive liquor and have your drunk out of your mind…or…"

"You being here is more than enough," Regina says as a little smile tugs onto her lips. "Really."

"Can you stay?" Robin asks. "It's already late and–"

"My parents took an impromptu trip to Newport. Stefan is… at school, I assume, and my soon-to-be in-laws don't acknowledge my presence when he's not around." She shrugs as a little grin edges onto her lips. "So, I can stay… for a while."

"A while, I like that."

"Me, too," Regina says, her heart fluttering a bit. "And I won't spend that time sulking."

"You have every right–"

"No," she decides, looking to Robin. "I don't. You're just as qualified as I am, and," she draws in a breath as she looks to Mal. "You're not here enough for me to waste time feeling sorry for myself."

A little chuckle rises up into Mal's voice. "I practically live here."

"Practically isn't enough," Regina says as Robin reaching for her hand, tugging her up form the coffee table and down between them on the couch, and Regina catches his grin as she cuddles into Mal. "This helps, by the way."

"I'm glad."

Robin settes back and grins over at them. "You were awfully excited when we came in."

"I'm always excited to spend time with you two," she says, looking over at him. "But, I developed the pictures we took last week and and they came out beautifully."

Regina brightens. "Yeah?"

"Wanna see?"

"Of course," she replies, nodding as Mal leans forward to grab the envelope. "Is the, um… the one I took of me…um…"

"Are you trying to ask about the picture you took of yourself blowing Robin?" Mal fills in, her brow arching. "Because, if so, that one came out, and… it's one of my favorites."

"Oh, god…"

Robin clears his throat and grins. "I'm going to need a copy of that one."

Mal laughs, leaning in and pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I already made the duplicates. This whole envelope is yours. It's just my favorites, though. A few of them were blurry or… had weird angles…" Shrugging, she looks back to Regina. "So, like I said, I just gave you guys the good ones."

"The envelope is awfully thick."

She giggles softly as her finger slips under the flap. "I have a lot of favorites."

Mal takes a breath as she draws out the stack of pictures, then holds up the first photograph. Regina smiles as she looks at the picture–it'd be impossible not to–and she can't help but think how perfectly Mal managed to capture the moment, and really, to capture them. To anyone who didn't know any better, it was a photograph of three friends, posing for silly shots–but when you looked closely, you could see the pillows they leaned back against and though the covers were drawn up around them, their shoulders were bare. They were all smiling brightly, albeit a bit groggily as the sun shined in on the bed–and they looked so happy and at ease.

"And they were.

"But this one is, hands down, my favorite."

Regina smiles as she looks up from her notepad, watching the way Robin leans against the frame of her door. He looks tired–weary, even–but he's smiling, nonetheless, as he holds her coffee mug with steam rising up from its top.

"You always did know the way to my heart," she says as he steps in, rounding her desk as she takes the mug and he presses a quick kiss to her cheek. "I was kind of surprised to get your call."

"There's something surprising about me wanting to see my wife?" He asks, cocking his head as sits back against the edge of her desk.

Her brow arches. "Well, no, but in the middle of the day… we're starting to make a habit of this…" she shrugs. "Not that I'm complaining."

For a moment, he doesn't respond. His eyes narrow as a little grin she can't quite place edges onto his lips. "I was having trouble concentrating and my thoughts started to drift, and eventually, they ended up back at you."

"What were you thinking about?"

"What we talked about yesterday," he admits. "I… haven't been able to stop thinking about it."

"About Gold and Leopold?" SHe asks, her shoulders tensing up a bit. She's been thinking about it too, and the more she thinks about it, the more unsettling it becomes.

"I'm pretty certain we're right."

Her eyes widen and heart starts to beat a little faster. "You found something."

"No," he's quickly to say. "Gold's been in the office all day, so I can't get in there, but he dropped in for a follow up." Taking a breath, his eyes momentarily sink closed. "He basically told me that he didn't care if Mal was innocent or if it was a case of self-defense, the Perraults had been good to him–"

"They basically paid for his first campaign," she says. "He owes them."

"You've been doing your research."

She shrugs. "I still haven't gotten Mal's medical records from overseas, so I'm at a standstill. And I can't just wait and do nothing." A soft little grin flickers in his eyes. "I don't want to put her through a trial. She can barely talk about this with me, but I'm trying to mentally prepare for her medical records being a bust."

"So you're looking for another angle."

She nods as her throat tightens a bit. "I-I can't let her down… and this just going away would be the easiest on… on all of us."

"That's what I'd want, too," Robin says, sighing a bit as his eyes momentarily press closed. "I can't quite wrap my head around how I'm supposed to argue this." He shrugs and draws in a breath as he looks back at her. "I sort of assumed that I'd be able to stamp this one shut."

"Well, you're supposed to fabricate evidence," Regina answers with an irritated scoff as she looks up at him. "And take a bribe or two to make yourself feel better about it." Her brow arches as she looks pointedly at him, her stomach fluttering with emotions she can't quite place, but feel too unsettling for comfort. "That's what Gold insinuated yesterday."

Robin nods. "Right."

Biting down on her lip, she narrows her eyes at him.

This had certainly gotten messy–messy in ways she hadn't at all anticipated.

From the start, she'd been worried about Robin's involvement, but it wasn't because she thought the District Attorney's office had a better case, or even had a real shot at putting Mal in prison; and from the start, she'd been confident that she could get Mal out of this and though she didn't vocalize it, she didn't actually think this any of this would even go to trial. After all, the more she unearthed about Mal and Stefan's marriage, the more obvious it became that Mal acted in self-defense, and the more obvious it became that the state didn't have a case against her.

Robin's involvement had simply been a complication, though.

She didn't want him to act on impulse or on emotion and get himself into trouble, and she didn't want the Perraults to be able to point at any reason to think Mal had gotten off easy or because the lawyer prosecuting her case had done something unethical. And she knew that if it did go to trial, no matter what he said, there was no way he'd be able to stand up in front of a judge and jury and argue that Mal should spend the rest of her life in prison. He loved her far too much to ever be able to do that, and she worried it'd all culminate in him throwing the case and getting himself disbarred.

There was no doubt, that he shouldn't be the one handling this case. It was too close to him, too much a conflict of interest, and she'd been annoyed that he wouldn't hand it over to someone else–and now, she was wondering if his gut-instinct was correct, if staying really had been the right choice.

She was even wondering now, if it'd been a blessing.

"I… think we need to start digging into the Perrault's campaign donations," she says. "I can have his financial records subpoenaed. Maybe I can find a money trail."

"You shouldn't be telling me that."

"And you shouldn't be telling me about private conversations that take place in the DA's office, yet here we are."

"Touche," he murmurs as a little grin edges onto his lips. "Well, since we're sharing things, Gold should be in court all day tomorrow and I'm pretty sure i can woo the secretaries into taking a long lunch."

"Yeah, I'm really sure you'll have to woo them into that."

"I don't know that anything's in his office but–"

"It's worth a look," she says, nodding in agreement. "At least it might give us a place to start."

"Not that you can use any of it court."

"Like I said," she says as a little grin edges onto her lips as she reaches out and touches her fingers to his knee, drawing his eyes to hers. "It might give me a place to start. Just… be careful."

"Always," he assures her. "Trust me, I have a plan."

"One that goes beyond sending all the secretaries out for a nice lunch and mistaking Gold's office for a supply closet."

"Of course."

"You know," she says, leaning back in her chair and looking up at him as she finally takes a sip of her coffee. "This is almost like we're working together again."

"Almost."

"But not quite."

"No," she murmurs. "Not quite." And then, her smile fades. "Do you regret it?"

"Leaving?"

"No," she says, shaking her head. "Working together."

"No."

"That was quick."

"Well, I don't need to think about it. I don't regret it." And then he pauses and again, her heart beats a little faster. "You know, before Gold came in to give me a not-so-veiled lecture me on the importance of Perraults' power, I was actually thinking about it."

"Yeah? You want to come? There just so happens to be an empty office next to mine."

"Right now, you've no idea how tempting that sounds."

"But–"

"I'm not cut out to be a prosecutor. I don't like this."

"Well, this case isn't exactly–"

"It's not the case. It's not Mal," he says, sighing as he shrugs. "Do you remember in law school–"

"You're thinking about environmental law again?"

"I don't know," he admits. "Maybe."

"Well, I like that better than this."

He grins and nods. "Well, we'll talk about it more once all of this is settled."

"Robin, if we can prove that the Perraults are trying to pay off the DA's office and I can prove that Mal really did act in self-defense then…"

"Then this is over."

"And we can move on."

A little grin tugs onto his lips. "We should probably talk about what that means."

"You mean if it involves Mal."

"It has to."

"I know," she nods. "But that choice will be hers."

"I guess that's just another bridge we'll have to cross when the time comes."

"Until then, we'll just have to… enjoy what we can."

He nods, "For as long as we can have it."

Regina smiles softly as her chest tightened. It's hard to think about going forward without Mal; and though he hasn't been back in their lives for more than a few weeks, in so many ways, it was like it always was. Mal was different, but so were they and they all still seemed to click just right–and for the first time in a very long time, she was able to think about what it might be like to have the life she used to envision for them.

But Mal wasn't there yet; she wasn't ready for that conversation–and she desperately hoped, that when all was said and done, she'd stick around long enough to have it and she'd make an honest effort of building a life with them. Right now, she only saw barriers, and all she considered was what everyone else would think and feel–and she had to assume that was the result of years spent never being allowed to consider what she wanted, years spent justifying her own horrible circumstances with the hope that her sacrifices would mean someone else's happiness.

"Regina?" Belle asks, opening the door a crack and bringing both her and Robin back into the present moment. "Mal is here."

"She is?"

Robin blinks. "She has to stop going out on her own."

"I know, and I told her that after her little excursion, but–"

"I wasn't sure if I could let her in."

"Of course you can," Regina says as Robin pushes himself off of the edge of her desk. "It's always okay to send her in."

Belle nods and a little grin edges onto her lips. "I think she brought you lunch."

Regina watches as Belle disappears from the doorway and then, a moment later, Mal comes in, smiling brightly–and looking so much like the Mal she fell in love with.

"Oh, you're both here," she says, shutting the door behind herself as she walks us to the coffee table to the right of her desk. "I was bored and–"

"You know you shouldn't go out alone," Regina says, looking to Robin. "The whole point of you staying with us was to keep safe."

"Well, initially it was."

"I know," she says, smiling a bit guilily. "But it's hard staying all alone. I get lonely." She shrugs as she looks between them. "And, I feel like I'm interrupting."

"No."

"Never."

"I am, though, aren't I? You two were in the middle of something. I'm interrupting."

"You're not an interruption."

Her brow arches unconvinced as she and Robin exchange a quick glance. "We were just… talking about some things."

"Things that pertaining to me and my… predicament?" Regina nods as Mal fidgets with her fingers. "Is there something I should know? I mean, the two of you talking together about my case…"

She watches as the panic rises up from her hands to shoulders and into her face, and suddenly, all she sees is the terrified woman who'd stood in her office weeks before, pleading for her to help her. With a soft sigh, she smiles, crossing the room and slipping her arm around Mal as she hugs her into her side, and she just can't bring herself to tell her there's a possibility that the Perraults attempted to purchase a life-sentence for her.

"I was telling Robin that I… don't think the state has a case against you."

"And the state," he says, pointing to himself and eliciting a hint of a grin from Mal. "Agrees."

"But Gold is going to be harder to convince."

"Ah…"

"I subpoenaed your medical records from the time you and Stefan spent abroad and–" Mal's eyes widen she feels her tense. "Hey. It's okay. It's just–"

"You didn't tell me that you were looking into my medical records," she's quick to say. "There's nothing in them, anyway. Nothing that would prove abuse. He was more careful than that." Regina sighs as her eyes slide to Robin and she feels Mal draw in a breath. "But I do have something that can prove it."

Regina's eyes widen as she looks back to her. "What?"

"Pictures," Mal says as she pulls away and sits down on the couch behind herself. "I… I took pictures of myself."

"Oh, Mal…"

"Why didn't you say–"Regina stops as she turns to her, watching the way her shoulders curl forward and she presses her eyes closed, and she feels her chest tighten. "It doesn't matter why you didn't say something about them."

"I just… hoped you wouldn't need them," she admits, looking up and looking between them. "They're hard to… to look at and… I…"

"Mal," Regina says, drawing in a shaky breath as she sinks down beside her and stretches an arm around her, rubbing her hand over her back. "It's okay. It's over now. That's all behind you."

Mal nods, but she looks unconvinced.

Robin crosses the room toward them and she watches as he sinks down on the opposite side of Mal. "You… really took pictures."

"I… thought I might need them," she says in a small voice. "I thought… in case…" Regina's eyes meet Robin's momentarily and then they both look back to Mal. "I needed them."

"Needed them?"

"Yeah," she says simply, her voice still small and her eyes teary. "In case Stefan killed me."

It's an obvious reason, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt to hear.

"Can, we, um… can we do it tomorrow, though?" She asks, looking between them. "I just.. I can't quite…"

"Yeah," Regina murmurs, hugging her a little closer as her voice trails off. "Whatever you want to do," she says, her own voice catching as tears well up in her eyes, and she hope that this time, she won't fail her.


	3. Chapter 3

_For the first time in months, they'd found themselves with nothing to do._

 _The semester was over and as Christmas drew closer, their peers and professors slowly, but surely made their way home for the holiday, leaving their little town practically vacant. Despite her boredom, Regina had been in a good mood that day–a mood that absolutely stemmed from the fact that after their exams, their cohort had gone out for drinks and she was the only one not spending their winter break scouring the course catalog for new career possibilities because unlike the rest of them, there wasn't even the slightest possibility that she'd failed. So, she'd made the executive decision to splurge on cab fare and take a trip into the city, and he was all too glad for the distraction._

 _Normally, this would have been the sort of outing he excused himself from–shopping was generally something Regina and Mal enjoyed together while he found anything else to do–but Mal was occupied preparing for an annual family ski trip up in Maine, and there was little else for him to do. It was cold and snowy, and his only other offer was helping Granny to clean out the grease traps, so Regina's suggestion of spending the day shopping earned no argument from him._

 _It hadn't been terrible, though he'd gone into the arrangement with the lowest of expectations. Once they arrived, they walked up and down the crowded streets and did a little window shopping. They didn't have much money to spend, but Regina wanted to get something for her father, and begrudgingly admitted that meant she needed to get her mother something, too, otherwise, she'd never hear the end of it. They'd gotten some cocoa as they browsed, and finally, made their way into one of the department stores. Robin hung back and watched as she perused the aisles, taking more than an hour to select a pair of black leather gloves lined with wool for her father, and had almost gleefully explained that one of his favorite winter activities was horseback riding on snowy trails, but it was difficult to find gloves thin enough to properly grip the reins and keep his hands warm. Then, as they made their way toward the check out, she grabbed a bottle of perfume that was tagged with a big yellow sale sticker. She didn't smell it or even read the label, and she made no effort to explain why she'd chosen that particular perfume–and that made him chuckle. And when they'd gotten up to the checkout, she paid extra to have the gloves gift wrapped in a bright metallic green paper and topped with a festive and glittery bow, but when the salesman asked about the perfume, she made a quick comment about having wrapping paper at home–wrapping paper that he knew to be left over from a candle Granny had given them as a Christmas present the previous year._

 _The rest of the afternoon was spent wandering in and out of stores. He got a new winter hat and Regina bought a scarf for herself, and her brow arched as a coy little grin tugged up at the corner of her mouth rounded the corner toward the lingerie department, and he'd offered a low and hearty laugh as he asked if the lingerie was meant to be a gift for her or for him._

 _They had dinner at a little cafe and spent too much on spaghetti, bread sticks and tiramisu, and by the time their cab arrived back at their apartment, all he could think about was submerging himself in a hot bath… preferably a bath he'd share with Regina._

 _"A letter arrived for you two," Granny calls out, almost as soon they pull open the diner's door. "It arrive quite ceremoniously, too," she adds as Regina hands him their bags and goes to the counter. "It arrived by_ limo _."_

 _"The letter?"_

 _Granny nods. "A man got out and hand delivered it."_

 _"A man in a limo brought us a letter?"_

 _Granny laughs. "Said I had to_ personally _hand it to one of you."_

 _Regina's brow arches and then a smile pulls onto her lips as she turns the envelope for him to see, and on the front their names are written in Mal's handwriting. "Always so dramatic."_

 _He laughs and nods, wanting to say it's one of the things he loves about her, but he stops himself before the words even reach his lips. "What does she have to say? Isn't she in Maine?"_

 _Regina nods. "Skiing."_

 _"Thank you," Robin says as he grins at Granny. "We'll just go–"_

 _"The limo is still here."_

 _"What?"_

 _He looks from Granny to Regina and then back again. "Still here?"_

 _Granny shrugs. "The driver is parked out back, and taking up half my parking spaces." Then a grin pulls onto her lips. "And true to form, Mal gave him more than enough cash to make up for any profits I lose because of it."_

 _"That was thoughtful," Regina murmurs as her finger slips beneath the fold of the envelope–and then looks back to Robin, nodding to one of the unoccupied tables._

 _She slides into the booth and he drops their bags down opposite her, then slips in beside her, leaning in to look at the letter._

 _"Good news! It's far too snowy for my family to make it up to Maine for their ski trip. Stefan went up a few days ago for a little alone time with Rose, and my parents are at some dinky little inn in Vermont, and are under the impression that I'm stuck out in the wilderness photographing snow-covered branches or something somewhere between here and there. I've got a room reserved in the city at one of my father's hotels. You'll need to check in at the front desk. I've reserved the room in Robin's name. My driver will take you. Everyone's under the impression that it's your anniversary. The room is yours (and by yours, I mean ours) for the weekend) and there's really no need to pack an overnight bag. I've got everything we'll need here. Hurry! I'll be waiting for you!_

 _All my love–_

 _Mal"_

 _Robin laughs as Regina's brow arches, and then somewhat awkwardly, they slide out from the booth. Granny is watching them with a curious gaze, and Regina stumbles through an explanation of how Mal arranged a little surprise getaway for them for their anniversary. Granny's eyes narrow, but she doesn't say anything, and as they walk up the stairs to their apartment, she calls out that she hopes they'll enjoy themselves._

 _Regina flicks on the light and Robin sets down their bags on the couch, and for a moment, they both look around a bit aimlessly._

 _"Do you really think we don't need to bring anything?"_

 _"That's what she said…"_

 _"I know, but–" Regina bites down on her lip. "She'd know, right?"_

 _Robin nods. "When has Mal ever_ not _been prepared for… well, anything."_

 _"True."_

 _"And it's not like we're going to Timbuktu."_

 _"Right…"_

 _"So…"_

 _"We should go." Robin chuckles softly as Regina looks around again, and then shrugs–and then a coy little grin edges onto her lips as two of her finger reach down and pluck up the small bag that contains the lingerie she purchased earlier that day. Her eyes widen as she catches his gaze, and then a little smirk forms over her lips. "What? This is for all of us," she tells him as she flicks off the lights and grabs his hand._

 _A half an hour later, the limo pulls up to the hotel and the driver wishes them a happy anniversary. They go inside and check in, asking for the room in Robin's name and the concierge grins, letting them know that Millicent von Drachen personally inspected the room to guarantee that it was to their liking–and Regina could barely stifle her giggle._

 _Robin takes the key and they get into the elevator, choosing the top floor. When they arrive, they find the floor split between only four rooms and from the foyer that the rooms share, it's obvious that each room has an impressive view of the city's skyline._

 _"That's bloody gorgeous."_

 _"It is," Regina agrees. "It's so…"_

 _"Fancy."_

 _"Mmhmm," she nods, peering down the hall to their room. "I doubt we'll be enjoying it much."_

 _At that, he laughs, then nods, and together they make their way to the room._

 _"I was beginning to worry," Mal coos as soon as the door opens._

 _They don't see her at first, but the room somehow matches her tone–candles are lit and the lights are on low, and to his surprise, the curtains are pulled back, showing off the glittering skyline. Momentarily, he glances behind him, ensures that Regina's in the room before closing the door behind them and turning the lock._

 _"It's too bad I didn't know you were shopping in the city, we could've started much sooner."_

 _"We didn't–"_

 _"Oh…"_

 _Mal grins as her chin tips up and it's clear that she's pleased with herself. "Surprise."_

 _Surprise, indeed._

 _For a moment, all he can do is stare–and given the way Regina's rooted in place, she's having difficult doing much else, too._

 _Mal is laying at the center of the bed–a bed wider than any he's ever seen–and propped up on her elbows, grinning at them. Her hair is pulled back and knotted in bun low on her neck. There are a few curled strands framing her face and her lips are painted red. She wears a long string of pearls that she's rolling absently between her fingers, and the rest of her is naked–totally and completely bare._

 _"But I suppose it worked out. I had a day at the spa downstairs. I had my hair and nails done, and a facial, and I'm certain my skin's never felt softer or smoother," she grins as she looks between them. "Come and feel."_

 _Regina drops the bag on the dresser and cross the room to her, joining her on the bed. She says something as she passes him, though he's not sure what it was or if it was even directed at him. He watches as Regina climbs into bed with Mal, her hand skimming over Mal's side. He catches a glimpse of their smiles just before they kiss and he watches as Regina's hand moves to Mal's breast. She mumbles something and Mal laughs as she tugs at Regina's sweater, then a moment later the sweater lays on the floor. Mal unhooks Regina's bra and peels it slowly down her arms, leaving Regina in her plaid pencil skirt–and then, they each pull away and look at him._

 _"Are you… joining us?"_

 _"She wasn't kidding," Regina tells him. "She's soft and smooth and… freshly waxed."_

 _He swallows hard as his eyes trail up Mal's legs and he watches as Mal's legs part. "Uh, the… the window…"_

 _"We're thirty-five floors up from the ground. No one can see us." Mal tells him as a grin pulls onto her lips. "And if they can, well… lucky for them."_

 _He laughs softly and nods, quickly crossing the room and joining them on the bed. He pulls off his sweater and loosens his belt, watching as Regina stretches out beside Mal, focusing her attention on her breasts, sucking at one while kneading at the other._

 _Mal's hand slips into his pants and she cups him, her eyes slowly moving up to meet his. "Kiss me."_

 _He doesn't reply, but happily obliges. His lips crash down onto hers as she stretches out beside her, his hand resting on her stomach. Her tongue slips between lips. His hand trails downward, slipping between her legs and finding that she's already incredibly wet. He drags his fingers slowly over her, opening his eyes for just a moment, watching as Mal's fingers work at the zipper of Regina's skirt._

 _"Wait." Robin stops as Regina pulls back, her brow creasing, indicating she's just as confused as he is–and then a grin pulls onto Mal's lips. "I've just been thinking about this all day and–" she chuckles softly as she looks between them. "I know exactly how I want this round to go."_

 _"This round," Regina repeats, arching an eyebrow and grinning with understanding. "So it's safe to assume that we'll… all have an opportunity to have things go our way."_

 _Mal grins as she looks to Regina. "That is why we have a room for the whole weekend," she tells her. "Aside from meals, I don't see any reason the three of us should do anything else." She shrugs. "Unless the two of you made other plans?" She laughs when neither he nor Regina reply. "Good," she says, very matter-of-factly as she sits up. "So, I figured we'd start in bed, then order some desert, then see where the night takes us… and the morning… and then afternoon and–"_

 _Regina laughs. "Well, if we had plans before, we don't now."_

 _"So, what I'm hearing," he says, looking between them. "Is that Regina and I are far over-dressed for the occasion."_

 _"Entirely," Mal agrees. "And I'm afraid, I'm… a bit further than the two of you," she tells them, grinning slyly. "I, might've had a little fun on my own as I was waiting." Robin swallows as he thinks of it–thinking of Mal stretched out on the bed with open legs as her fingers rubbed at her clit–and he feels his cock twitch. "The two of you should… catch up."_

 _He and Regina exchange quick glances as they sit back on the bed. He edges himself closer to her, letting his hand slip up over her jaw as his fingers tangle in her hair. She parts his lips with her tongue and he swirls his tongue around hers as she shifts closer, reaching for his cock._

 _Regina's fingers form around him, moving slowly up and down his shaft. She kisses him harder and her hand pumps faster–and he hears Mal let out a little moan. Smiling against Regina's lips, he lips his eyes, watching as Mal fingers herself, her eyes focused on them._

 _Closing his eyes again, his attention turns back to Regina. His hand settles on her hip as he turns her, opening up her legs. Hand slips from her hip to her stomach, then pushes downward until he reaches her warm, wet center. Two fingers push through against the sleek skin and his thumb rubs at her clit–and then, as his fingers push inside of her, her breath catches at the back of her throat._

 _"Mmm…"_

 _It's Mal who moans, and Regina giggles into his kiss._

 _"You two are gorgeous, together," she tells them, her voice husky as she pleasures herself. "And so fucking sexy."_

 _Regina nips at his bottom lip as she breaks the kiss, drawing in a long breath as she looks to Mal. "You look like you're enjoying yourself."_

 _"I am," she admits. "But I think I'd be enjoying myself just a bit more if I were over the with you two rather than over here all by myself."_

 _"Well, who says you can't be?"_

 _Mal laughs softly as comes toward them, sitting back with her legs folded underneath herself. Regina presses a kiss to his shoulder as she looks up at Mal, waiting for her to join in–and they both watch as a slow grin edges onto Mal's lips._

 _"I spent the whole day thinking about all the ways I wanted you."_

 _"Did you?"_

 _"Mm," Mal nods. "I thought about what it'd be like to watch the two of you fuck each other silly, and what it'd be like to have Regina kneeling over my face while you fucked me, riding your cock as I fuck Regina with my fingers…and then… I spent an awful lot of time thinking about what it'd be like to feel both of you, at the same time."_

 _"Oh?"_

 _"Regina's soft lips sucking and licking while you fuck me."_

 _"Then I suppose we should get you on your back," Robin says, reaching for her and hooking his arm around her waist, pulling her in and twisting her down onto the bed between them. "I didn't mention how beautiful you look tonight, by the way," he says, laying down beside her and stroking his fingers over her arm. "But I meant to."_

 _"You were just so struck by my stunningness that you forgot?"_

 _"Yes," he admits, chuckling softly as he looks to Regina who smiles back at him. "That happens quite a bit."_

 _"Does it?"_

 _"Mm, it does," Regina confirms. "But it's not surprising. You're always stunning."_

 _"You flatter me."_

 _"I want to do much more than that," Regina says, shrugging her brows._

 _"Much more," he agrees, leaning in and kissing her shoulder–and for a moment, he can't believe the turn this night has taken and how a few hours before the only thing he'd had to look forward to was a bath in a too-tight tub and some leftover spaghetti._

 _Regina sits up as he shifts himself over Mal, drawing up her knees and rubbing hand over her legs. She parts them and takes a breath, smiling as she waits and he smirks back at her as he teases her, sliding his cock against her and letting its head bump against her clit. Regina settles herself at Mal's side, turning her head and kissing her as her hand rubs at her inner thigh._

 _After a few more teasing strokes, he pushes inside of her, watching his cock slowly disappear._

 _Mal lets out a content sigh and Regina smiles against her mouth._

 _Mal is warm and soft, and he holds himself still for a moment, enjoying the way she feels. He rubs his hands over her knees and watches as Regina's lips trail away from Mal's. She kisses down over her chin and neck, then to her clavicle, her tongue swirling slowly around her nipple before she kisses down her torso, eventually settling at his side._

 _He grins over at her as he pushes himself back into Mal and his breath catches as Regina leans in, swiping her tongue along his cock as he pulls himself back–and she giggles as their eyes meet momentarily before she turns her full attention to Mal._

 _He slips in and out of her gradually speeding up then slowing himself down–and every time he noticed the open curtains, he feels an extra little jolt of excitement._

 _Regina's tongue focuses on Mal's clit, sucking and swirling around it. But every now and then, she catches him, licking the length of him as he pulls out and pushes back in before her attention returns to Mal. Robin's hand reaches for her, absently groping at first until he finds her ass, rubbing his hand over at it gently. Mal notices and grins her approval, and when two of his fingers slip inside of Regina, they both feel her breath catch._

 _Mal is the first to come, and he slows his pace as she comes down from her high and as he withdraws from her–still hard and aching to come–Regina takes him in her mouth. She sucks him to orgasm and it's only then that he notices Mal has shifted herself between Regina's legs. He watches as Regina's body tenses up and her breath becomes ragged as she clutches at the sheet–and he smiles as he watches her come._

 _For awhile, they all just lay there together, enjoying the snowy cityscape–Regina cuddled up to Mal and he on the opposite side of her, resting his head atop hers as he holds Mal's hand–and for what seems like the millionth time, he finds himself thinking how lucky he is to have them._

 _"We should eat," Mal murmurs, leaning over and reaching for the menu. "Did the two of you have a proper dinner?"_

 _"Spaghetti," Regina murmurs._

 _"At um… that little place… it's on a corner, the one with the checkered table clothes."_

 _Mal's brow arches as she looks to Regina._

 _"Albertos."_

 _"Ah. Did you have the breadsticks?"_

 _"Mm, I could have made a meal out of them."_

 _"And judging by the prices on that menu, the two of you split that spaghetti."_

 _"We did," Robin laughs. "But that meant we also could split dessert."_

 _"The tiramisu?"_

 _"Of course–it's supposed to be world famous."_

 _Mal laughs, "Some gangster was murdered there in the thirties." Robin blinks as Regina lifts her head. "What?" She asks, her eyes widening as she looks between them. "It's not like I murdered him. I just read about it." Regina laughs as her head rests back on her shoulder. "So, if I ordered lobster, you wouldn't be interested?"_

 _"I can always eat," Robin supplies._

 _"And we did eat early," Regina murmurs. "And contrary to what everyone says, the tiramisu was not worth the price."_

 _"No," Mal agrees. "It's not. The cannoli isn't bad, though."_

 _"Good to know."_

 _"Mm–" She looks up from the menu. "How do you feel about cream puffs– or cheesecake. I can't decide." Before either of them can answer, she shuts the menu. "Never mind, I'll get both–and I'll add on some_ good _tiramisu and we can all pick at each other's desserts."_

 _She gets out of bed and pads to the bathroom and when she returns, she's wearing a fluffy white terrycloth robe embroidered with the hotel's logo–and two more are draped over her arm._

 _"I feel a little bad about this," she says, "But I wanted a third robe so I threw a small tantrum because there was only one in the bathroom." She grimaces. "They're all used to my mother's fits so–" She shrugs and holds one out to each of them. "Put these on, then one of you can order."_

 _Regina frowns as she nuzzles against him. "I'm perfectly comfortable like this."_

 _Robin grins as Mal's brow arches. "Well, the waiter who brings up our food is going to get an incredible tip."_

 _"Oh," she laughs, her cheeks flushing as she sits up, "I hadn't thought of that."_

 _Mal sits on the foot of the bed and draws up her feet, watching as they tie the robes around themselves–and then, a coy little grin edges onto her lips. "So, Regina, you get to decide the details of our after dinner romp."_

 _Robin grins as he watches Regina's brows arch in consideration and a small chuckle escapes him as he takes the menu and reaches for the phone, excite to see where the weekend takes them._

Regina grins as she turns her head on the pillow, smiling as Robin comes out of the bathroom, a gust of steam following him as he towel dries his hair. Her eyes linger over his backside, and she pouts a little at the realization he's put on his boxer shorts–and then, as he opens the drawer and pulls out a pair of brown argyle socks and an undershirt, he catches her gaze in the mirror.

"You're awake."

"I am," she nods, as her eyes shift to Mal. "She's not though."

Robin smiles as he turns back to them, his eyes falling to Mal who's cuddled up against Regina. Her arm is draped across her stomach and her head rests on her shoulder, her cheek scrunched against her. Regina's fingers absently rub over her wrist and hand, drawing little circles, hearts and swirls–and more than anything, she's content to lay there with her and waste away the morning…

"You two look content."

"I am," Regina nods. "And I think she is."

"I think she is, too," Robin murmurs as he sits down on the edge of the bed. "She seems happy, all things considered."

"I hope she is. It's been nice having her here with us, it's been–"

"Like old times."

Regina nods. "Yeah."

"I want her to stay, too," Robin admits. "I think we could make it work."

"I know we could," Regina sighs. "I just… don't know that she does."

"Well," he muses as a smile draws on to his lips. "We'll just have to convince her, and you and I are both quite good at convincing."

"I think I'm going to stay here with her today," she says, looking down at Mal. "I know she's bored when we're not here and there's not much she can do confined here."

"No," he murmurs. "You should stay in or maybe, the two of you could go somewhere, a little day trip of sorts."

"Maybe," she murmurs as she looks back to him and grins. "I'll see what she wants to do when she wakes up." A soft chuckle escapes her as she looks back to him. "I might have to have you call Belle and let her know I won't be in. I meant to but–"

"You're a bit… detained."

"Yes."

"I'll do you one better, I'll swing by your office on the way to mine."

"And you'll check to see if those medical records have arrived?"

Robin nods. "And if they haven't I'll remind Belle to call you as soon as they do."

"I'd lean in and kiss you for your thoughtfulness, but–"

"You're a bit detained."

"Yes," she laughs as her eyes fall momentarily to Mal. "And gladly so." She sighs and bites down on her lip as she looks back to Robin. "You know, you could stay with us."

"I can't."

"But you could."

"Regina–"

"I'm serious," she cuts in. "Play hookie."

"I can't. You know I can't."

Her eyes narrow. "But you can. What do you really have to do, anyway?" His lips part to explain, but she speaks before he has the chance. "Spend the morning in bed with us being lazy."

"I would _love_ to do that, but Gold is in court all morning."

She frowns. "Oh."

"And if he's in court–"

"His office is left unoccupied."

"Precisely."

Taking a long breath, she sighs and tires to sort out her thoughts. She shouldn't want the District Attorney conspiring against her client. She shouldn't want Leopold Perrault to have done something stupid and sloppy, and have lawyers and judges paid off to ensure the verdict would go his way. She shouldn't want it because she couldn't control it and there was no way of knowing how deep the Perraults influence ran or how many pockets their money lined–yet, the thought of a trial made her ill. She didn't want Robin to have to go through it and she didn't want Mal to have to go through it, and if they could prove some sort of conspiracy against her or uncover some sort of illegal bribe, it could all go away.

"And you think you can get past his secretary? From what Belle says, she's like a Rottweiler."

Robin chuckles and nods. "That is an apt description of her, and she has a tendency to take long lunches when Gold is out for the day."

"I see."

Robin nods. "So, I figure I can get in and have a look around." She watches as a sly little grin tugs up onto his lips. "I, um, found my lock-picking kit, just in case." Regina laughs out before he can even finish and his smile broadens when she does. "I found it in an old box of things from our apartment."

"I still can't believe you'd break into the restaurant whenever you forgot your keys after closing."

"And how else was I supposed to get in?"

"Well, you could've called me–"

His brow arches. "And if you were with me."

"I was with you once, and even then, you could've called Granny. She lived across the hall."

"I know that and I also know that she loved to lecture me–"

"When you deserved it."

Robin's eyes roll. "It was just easier–and more thrilling."

"You're ridiculous."

He leans in and presses a soft kiss to her lips. "You complain, but you love me."

"I do," she nods as he pulls away. "I very much do–and I hope your little mission is successful," she tells him, looking down at Mal momentarily. "I'm not sure she can handle a trial."

"I don't think _I_ can," he admits as he looks to Mal. "But she's… she's just…" He sighs as he looks to Regina. "She's so different than she was."

"The result of years of being broken down."

"I know. It's just–"

He pauses and his jaw tightens–and it's a feeling she understands. So often since Mal returned to their lives they've found themselves frustrated with themselves and feeling useless. None of this had to happen, yet it had; and now, they had to try to find ways to make it up to her and hope that they could. Mal would never admit that they'd fallen short and she'd never blame them, but there were so many little things they should've picked up on. But they bought her excuses and in the end, when it came down to it, they hadn't tried to fight for her, and though she didn't know what that might've entailed or how they'd have found her when she was sailing all over the world, there had to have been a way–a way to stop what had inevitably happened.

"The other night at dinner, she pretended to have a headache."

"I remember."

"That headache started as soon as the trial was brought up."

"I noticed that, too."

"It must be hard, worrying about losing your entire life to–"

"She won't though," Regina cuts in. "I won't let that happen. I won't let her down again." Taking breath, her eyes sink closed and she thinks about the morning they'd awoken to a goodbye letter from Mal. By the time they'd gotten it, she was long gone, on a boat in the middle of the ocean sailing to… somewhere. "We could've contacted her parents."

"And said what?" He asks, knowing exactly what she's talking about. "What would we have told them?

"That we were–"

"Her lovers?"

"No," she sighs. "Concerned friends?"

"And they'd have said they'd pass along a message that she'd never reply to."

"Right…"

"I've gone over it a thousand times, too, Regina. I did it then and I've done it now. We can't change it, we can only do better going forward."

"I just–"

"I know," he murmurs. "I feel terrible about it, too."

"I want to ask her if she'll stay. I know we said we'd give her time and respect her decision, but…" Her voice trails off and she looks down at Mal. "It's just hard to imagine going back to… not having her here."

"I know," he nods. "In spite of the circumstances and how jarring her return was, it sometimes… feels like she's always been here, like she never left." Regina watches as he reaches out and tucks Mal's hair behind her ear, grinning at the clearer view of her face. "I think she wants to stay."

"I think she wants to… not feel like our dirty little secret."

"That still hurts."

"I know."

"I never meant–"

"I know," Regina nods. "And I think she knows it, or at least I hope she does."

Robin grins. "As I said earlier, it's a good thing you and I care so convincingly."

"How do you think the kids would react?"

"To Mal?"

"To Mal being our girlfriend."

"Ah," he murmurs. "I… don't know, honestly. I can't imagine them not liking her, but then I am quite bias."

"With good reason."

"She was always good with children."

Regina nods and smiles. "And Henry and Roland are both so easy going."

"They'll be friends in no time."

"If she stays."

"Right. If."

Drawing in a breath, she peers down at Mal and considers how they might spend their morning. It occurs to her that the day can't be a total wash, and that even though she's mostly waiting on the medical records to arrive, there's other work to be done–work she needs to be with Mal to do.

"You know, since I've got her all to myself, we should make a trip to the bank," she tells him. "She has those pictures tucked away in a safe deposit box."

"That's going to be difficult."

"I'm dreading it," she admits. "There's a part of me that wishes they could stay put away forever."

He nods in agreement. "And something tells me they're going to be horrific."

"I've the same feeling," she sighs. "I wish that… that I could just spend the day in bed with her, making her forget all of this."

"You could, you know," he says as a smile draws on to his lips. "You know, it is your obligation to take care of your client."

"You're right," she murmurs as her eyes narrow. "You may be on to something."

Robin laughs and leans in, kissing her as he rises from the edge of the bed. "I need to finish getting dressed," he tells her. "I'm going to take my clothes and finish getting ready in the guest room. I don't want to wake her."

"Okay, and you'll remember to talk to Belle for me?"

"I will," he nods. "And I wish you luck today."

"I think you need more luck than me. You'll call if you find anything or… just… just call me once it's done, even if you don't. I just want to make sure that you're alright and…" She sighs as her eyes roll. "Just call me."

"I will. I promise."

"I love you."

"I love you, too," he grins as he grabs the suit hanging on the closet door. "I'll see you later."

"I look forward to it," she replies, watching as he goes–and then, she turns her attention back to Mal, dropping a quick kiss to her hair as she nuzzles a bit closer.

 _Mal bites down on her lip as she sits down on the couch, curling her feet underneath herself. She cranes her look for a better view of the kitchen, and just barely, she can see Robin. He's standing with his back to her and she can hear the pan sizzling._

 _There's a record playing just low enough to hear and candles are lit around the room, and her stomach flutters softly–this is a first for them._

 _That morning, Regina left for Connecticut for her father's 50th birthday party–a decision she'd struggled with for weeks. She hadn't been home since starting law school, and her mother had made no attempt to hide her feelings about her daughter's life choices. She'd entertained the idea of sending her to a university–after all, that's where girls like Regina Mills could snag a young doctor–but it wasn't long after she started, that her mother regretted the choice. Regina had been a serious student, even then. She chose a history major and a minor in philosophy–areas stocked with young men with low earning potential. She didn't join a sorority like Cora encouraged, instead taking up political causes and volunteering, and when she met Robin, Cora decided he was the root of the problem and that he'd encouraged Regina's poor choices–and then, the final straw came when Regina announced to her family, not only was she going on to law school, she and Robin were engaged._

 _She and her father remained close throughout–and he tried to be supportive when he could–so when he personally called and asked for Regina to attend the party, it'd been difficult for her to decline, even if it meant spending a weekend in her mother's company, as well._

 _So, for the first time since she'd come into their lives, she and Robin were alone. Sure, there'd been little moments scattered throughout their time together, things they'd attended as a pair, hikes that Regina refused to even consider accompanying them on, moments where Regina was at the library or running an errand–but this was different because at no point would Regina walk through the door._

 _Her stomach fluttered again–she was both excited and nervous, and she wasn't sure how this would go, if it would work for she and Robin to spend a few days as a couple rather than a part of… whatever it was the three of them were._

 _And she worried that at the end of it, he'd realize that he'd just gotten caught up in the excitement, that he and Regina were better off without her…_

 _"Are you sure I can't help?" she calls. "You know I love to cook."_

 _"It's almost ready."_

 _"I know, but–"_

 _"I've got it."_

 _She sighs and nods, looking around the apartment as a soft giggle escapes her–a giggle that would have been embarrassing had anyone heard it._

 _"You can pick a wine though."_

 _Chewing at her lip, she cranes her neck again, trying unsuccessfully to see into the kitchen. "That's a difficult task, considering I don't know what we're having to eat."_

 _"Oh," he murmurs. "I wanted it to be a surprise… so if I ruin it, you'll be none the wiser."_

 _She laughs. "I'm pretty sure I can tell if something is burned or undercooked or… just bad, regardless of what it is."_

 _"That's true," he calls out. "But I snagged a back up… tray of something from Granny's freezer."_

 _"You stole a lasagna?"_

 _"I didn't say that!"_

 _Again, she laughs. "You didn't need to."_

 _"Fine," he says, sighing loudly. "It doesn't appear I'll be needing it, so I'll admit that, yes, I stole a tray of lasagna from Granny's freezer." He pauses. "I left cash on her counter."_

 _"You do realize that's not quite the same as paying for it?"_

 _"She doesn't mind."_

 _Mal's eyes roll. "You're lucky she finds you so damn adorable, you know that."_

 _"I do."_

 _Laughing softly, she shakes her head. "So… can you at least tell me if it's beef or chicken or fish or–"_

 _"Two of those things."_

 _She blinks. "Surf and turf?"_

 _"Perhaps!"_

 _She sighs as she gets up to the couch, wandering toward the wine rack and skimming her fingers over the bottles. "That's not really helpful."_

 _"I know."_

 _Again, her eyes roll as she draws in a deep breath. "You're such an ass."_

 _"But you love me, anyway."_

 _A grin pulls onto her lips as her cheeks warm and her stomach flutters–she does love him, she loves both of them. They've all admitted it here and there, but never consistently, all understanding that their time together was limited and their relationship was one that had to be concealed. "Perhaps."_

 _"And it's ready," he calls out. "Have you picked a wine?"_

 _Biting down on her lip, and she realizes there's little chance of going wrong. So, she chooses a cabernet sauvignon and grabs the wine cork–and when Robin comes out of the kitchen, he's carrying two plates and wearing an apron over his shirt and tie._

 _"You dressed up."_

 _He nods. "Well, this is a first date… of sorts."_

 _"I feel underdressed," she says, looking down at her black sweater and black-and-white polka dot skirt. "You should've–"_

 _"You look gorgeous," he tells her. "But then, you could wear a sack and look radiant"_

 _"You flatter me–and you lie," she laughs as he presses a kiss to her cheek and then sets the plates down on the table. "But that looks incredible."_

 _A proud smile edges onto his lips. "Thank you," he says as he pulls the apron off and tosses it onto the armchair beside the couch. "I labored over a hot stove for hours."_

 _"Poor you."_

 _"Regina made us dessert–" He pauses and chuckles softly. "Actually, she bought it then decorated it."_

 _"Do I get to know what it is?"_

 _He nods, "She got this adorable little key lime pie," he tells her, "The decorated it with whipped cream and slices of lime."_

 _"That is adorable."_

 _"She really is, isn't she?"_

 _"So, tell me what you made," she asks as he pulls out her chair. "I mean, I can see it but–"_

 _"Well, that evening Regina and I went to Albertos, we saw someone order this and it looked incredible, so I asked Granny about it."_

 _"Ah–"_

 _"I'm quite proud of this because she didn't have a recipe for me to follow."_

 _"So, this is–"_

 _"All me."_

 _"Aw," she grins. "I feel so special."_

 _"As you should." He sits down beside her and grins, his blue eyes sparkling in a way that makes her stomach flutter. "So, what you'll find before you," he begins, clearing his throat and picking up his fork. "Is scampi-style surf and turf." She grins and nods along. "We have tenderloin steak and scallops, seared in butter and seasoned with lemon zest, garlic, basil, white wine, and a healthy dash of pepper sauce to give it a little kick."_

 _"I think you've missed your calling," she tells him. "You shouldn't be a lawyer, you should be applying for a chef position at the Waldorf."_

 _"You can't say that if you haven't tried it."_

 _She grins. "Tell me about the asparagus."_

 _"Oh," he murmurs. "That was all I'd planned for my impressive culinary speech," he admits. "I, uh, rolled them in lemon juice and tossed them into the oven."_

 _She laughs. "Okay, maybe lawyering is meant for you."_

 _"I would hope so," he admits. "I've drained an unhealthy amount of time, energy and money into it if it's not what I'm meant to do."_

 _"I'm sure it is," she tells him, softening a bit as she gets lost in his eyes. "And I am sure this will be incredible– even the asparagus."_

 _He laughs and nods, reaching for the wine cork, and she settles back her in chair, watching as he pours the wine she selected. They slip into an easy conversation about a book he's reading thanks to her story about the mobster killed at the restaurant he took Regina to–and from there, they spend the course of the meal talking about some of their favorite reads._

 _She grins as she cuts into her steak, listening to him talking about a collection of news stories and commentary that he'd found tucked away in the library about the notorious Purple Gang in 1920s Detroit and she tells him about about a novel she'd recently read about Elizabeth Bathory–and they laugh over the common, somewhat disturbing theme they seem to enjoy in literature._

 _From there the conversation drifts to movies, and it's so reminiscent of that first dinner they shared, downstairs in the diner with Regina. Yet somehow, it's also entirely different._

 _There's an intimacy and warmth–and her worries of inadequacy and awkwardness slowly but surely fade away._

 _The conversation again shifts slightly to a conversation on poetry. She always knew they had similar tastes, but they'd never really talked about it, admittedly on his part because if it didn't have something to do with whatever course he was currently taking, he wouldn't allow himself the time for it. They talked about their favorite pieces from Whitman and Thoreau, they shared bits of memorized passages from Wordsworth and Tennyson, and she confessed those poems had inspired her to take up photography._

 _He listened and asked questions, and made her hobby seem so important–and all throughout their conversation, she couldn't help but note how well-suited they were for one another._

 _It was something that struck her from time to time with both Robin and Regina–and it was always something different. But being with them just felt so natural. They both complemented and contrasted her in different ways that made them all compatible–and still, after years of being with them, it took her aback._

 _After dinner, they'd moved to the couch, delaying desert until they had room for it. She felt a bit bad about delaying it, noting that she probably should've drank less wine, especially knowing Regina had gone to the trouble of arranging it–and Robin just smiled, reminding her that Regina would understand and they did have the rest of the night in front of them._

 _And then, he'd leaned in and kissed her._

 _Her arms linked around his neck and his hands find her waist, holding her as they kiss. His kiss was soft and sweet, unassuming and his lips tasted of butter and wine. Slowly, he eased her back against the cushion–and by the time they parted to catch their breath, her lips felt a bit swollen and her head was fuzzy._

 _"I, um, need a break," he murmurs, glancing down at himself. "Perhaps now would be a good time for that pie."_

 _She grins and nods, following him into the kitchen. She pulls herself up onto the counter, and watches as he pulls the dessert from the refrigerator–and her smile is almost instant when she notices the scalloped whipped cream edges and the thin slices of lime that create a little flower at the pie's center. She can almost see Regina standing at the counter, tense and determined as she decorates the pie, cursing herself for not paying just a bit extra for someone else to do the decorating, then so satisfied with herself when it turned out so prettily._

 _"I almost don't want to cut it," Robin admits._

 _"I can almost hear Regina clicking her tongue at that."_

 _"And rolling her eyes."_

 _"Yes," she giggles. "She went to a lot of trouble."_

 _Robin nods as he reaches for two plates. "She wanted this weekend to be special for us." He turns back, setting the plates on counter beside her. "She told me to make it memorable."_

 _"Did she?"_

 _He nods again. "Has it been?"_

 _"I think so," Mal grins, reaching out and skimming her fingers over his hand. "Or, at the very least its had the beginnings of something memorable."_

 _He grins and presses a knife into the pie. "Do you think it'll keep for a couple of days?"_

 _"You want to save a slice for Regina?"_

 _"Well, she was so excited about it."_

 _"Even if it doesn't keep, I think you should try then–and maybe we can give her a memorable homecoming?"_

 _Robin nods, chuckling softly as he plates the pie–and then, as she looks down to take her plate, Robin leans in and catches her lips in his. She smiles against him and her hands slide over his shoulders and she breathes him in and when he pulls back, she blushes, biting down on her lip as he reaches for her plate and hands it out to her._

 _He grabs two clean wine glasses on the way out of the kitchen and plucks a bottle of chardonnay as they pass the wine rack and as she settles back on the couch, Robin sets his pie and the wine onto the coffee table. A smirk pulls onto his lips._

 _She watches curiously as he moves to the record player–and a moment later, the deep sound of a saxophone fills the room. He turns the volume down, then turns back to her, smiling as an instrumental jazz record plays–and she grins at the realization that it's a Billie Holiday song._

 _"I love this song."_

 _"I know," he tells her, pecking her lips as he joins her on the couch. "That's why we bought it."_

 _She opens the wine and pours it in two glasses, handing him one as she picks up her plate and fork. "Did I ever tell you about the little concert Stefan and I went to?"_

 _Robin shakes his head. "I don't think so."_

 _"Billie Holiday was singing at this little club in Harlem."_

 _"That seems… uncharacteristically thoughtful."_

 _She nods. "Well, it has all the trappings of a thoughtful date, but before the first song was through, he was gone." She shrugs. "It was before Rose, and he'd been friendly with one of the waitresses and–"_

 _"Ah–"_

 _"We hadn't quite admitted that we couldn't stand each other, but I will say, I enjoyed the show much more without him."_

 _"Then it was thoughtful of him to abandon you."_

 _"Incredibly." She chews at her lip for a moment. "I might've gone home with someone else, too." He laughs and takes a bite of his pie as she sighs at the hazy memory of herself, wrapped in another woman's arms as her boyfriend kissed her neck. "It may be the best date Stefan's ever taken me on."_

 _Their conversations settles on music as they finish their pie–and it's then, that she admits that she enjoys going out dancing. He looks surprised and she's certainly never told him–it isn't quite an activity that three people can do while not attracting attention from others, and Stefan couldn't care less about taking her out._

 _And then to her surprise, Robin downs his wine and stands up, offering her his hand._

 _"You…want to dance?" Mal asks as she looks up at him._

 _"Sure, why not?"_

 _"Well–" she bites down on her lip. She doesn't have a good reason. "Okay," she murmurs, placing her hand in his and letting him pull her up._

 _Her stomach flutters as he leads her to the open space between between the couch and dining area–and her breath catches at the back of her throat when he pulls her up against him. His hand slips to the small of her back as he takes her hand in his, and her other arm stretches loosely around his shoulders. He pulls her even closer, eliciting a soft giggle from her and then presses a soft kiss to her jaw as they begin to sway back and forth together. She takes a long breath, breathing him in as her eyes close._

 _His lips find her neck, kissing her softly as they sway. A low moan escapes her as she lets her head fall to the side, giving him more access to her as she loses herself in his touch–and then, as the song ends Robin takes a step back, forcing open her eyes. He grins sweetly and his eyes glitter as he takes another step back, his fingers tightening around hers as he gives her a gentle tug. She giggles softly as she takes a step forward and follows him back to the bedroom as another song begins to play._

Robin taps his fingers nervously as he watches the door, watching as Gold's secretary cleans out her pocket book, tossing old receipts and candy wrappers into the wastebasket. He could feel his lock-pick in his pocket and he was eager to see if he needed to use it, and even more eager to take a look around Gold's office–but of course, he needed to get past his secretary in order to do either.

His door was cracked open and he pretended to be reading a stack of documents sitting on his desk, all the while keeping an eye on her. Finally, she finished and checked over her calendar, quickly glancing up at the clock mounted on the wall before getting up and walking to the elevator. He holds his breath, waiting to hear the elevator ding and then waits to hear the soft whirring noise it makes as it descends–and even then, he waits a few beats before rising from the desk. He grabs an old fountain pen and stuffs it into his pocket, fishing out the lock-pick as he crosses the empty office to Gold's door, and when he reaches the office door, he finds it unlocked.

"Well," he murmurs to himself. "That makes things easier."

Slipping inside, he looks around, quickly find the office stodgy and dark. He moves around the desk and looks at its contents, carefully opening folders and peeking beneath his desk calendar and finding nothing out of the ordinary. Sighing, he reaches for the top drawer and finds it locked–and when he reaches for another, he finds that one locked too.

Glancing quickly at the door, he pulls out the pick and crouches down in front of the top drawer, wiggling it until he feels it pop. Slowly, he glances back to the drawer, careful not to jar anything out of place, and when it's fully open, he looks down at its contents. Rows of pens and pencils, an opened roll of stamps, some envelopes, paper clips, and nothing at all worth locking up sit in a desk tray. The tray, however, isn't built into the drawer, but instead is nestled inside of it, and when he wiggles it, he finds that he can easily lift it.

Again, he looks up, this time taking note of the time, then turns his attention to the drawer. He slips the tray back, then pulls it up, lifting it up just enough to slip his hand beneath–and as soon as his fingers are beneath the tray, they touch upon a booklet. Crouching down, he lifts the tray a bit more and pulls out what he soon discovers is a date book.

Pulling it out, he fans through it, stopping at the current month, comparing it to the calendar atop the desk–and as he compares dates, he finds the appointments aren't quite the same. Unlike his desk calendar, the appointments made aren't clear–and, he reasons that there are several logical reasons why that could be. One calendar is obviously professional and this could be personal or for bills or any other thing in Gold's life that needed tracking. But the inscriptions were vague–symbols and letters–and he had a sinking feeling in his gut that over the years had never proven to be wrong.

Taking a breath, he turned back a few pages, to the month and day that Mal had shot Stefan–and only two days later, there was a circle around the date. There was another circled day just after Mal had hired Regina, and a few more after that, one of which was later that week. But he very well knew that a circled date in a date book was hardly evidence of foul play, so he tucked the date book back in its place and closed the drawer, locking it before moving on to another.

He picks the lock to another drawer, finding its contents unimportant–extra legal pads and a box of ink, an old photograph of himself with a woman and a young boy, a half empty tin of mint candies, and a rather large bottle of aspirin. Sighing, he shuts the drawer and locks it, then crouches down to open the third and last drawer. He pulls it open and sighs, to find a row of standard green hanging folders, labeled with cases he's prosected over the last year–and after a quick flip through a few of them, he finds in them exactly what their labels read.

Sighing, he pushes the folders forward, and that's when he reveals an accordion folder at the back of the drawer. He pulls it out and glances to the clock, checking his time before flipping through the insert–and he frowns when the first slip of paper he pulls from the folder is Gold's electric bill.

He rolls his eyes and continues through the accordion folder, and a the back he finds a bundle of bank slips. He pulls off the paperclips and slowly fans through them, finding them mostly routine transactions–every friday a deposit for his paycheck, a monthly withdraw for his mortgage, and another monthly withdraw for a set amount that he assumes has something to do with the family picture tucked away in his drawer, rather than atop his desk–and then, midway through the stack of slips, a specific date catches his eye.

Pulling out the slip, he examines it carefully, feeling his heartbeat quicken as realizes the deposit was made on the first day that was circled, two days after Mal shot Stefan. The deposit is for a $1000 and a few slips later, he finds another for the same amount, and that deposit was made on the next circled date in his date book. Looking to the clock once more, he studies the slip, memorizing its details. There are others that follow for the same amount that match to the other circled days–and he feels an unsettled feeling slothing around at his core.

Any conclusion he could draw are merely assumptions–and he's sure that Gold has an explanation.

He puts the slips back, eyeing the door, as he shoves the accordion file back into place–then, as he's locking the drawer, he hears the soft whirring of the elevator.

Swallowing hard, he looks to the clock on the wall, his heart racing as he fidgets with the lock–and just as he pulls the pick from the lock, the elevator dings, announcing its arrival. He looks around the desk, checking to make sure everything is in its spots and he gives each drawer a slight tug to ensure they're locked, and then he rounds the desk. He won't be able to get out, but he can make it look more innocent than it is–and as he reaches the front of the desk, he hears the door knob turn.

"Mr. Locksley," Gold's voice calls. "What a surprise."

"Oh," Robin says, turning and chuckling softly. "I'm sure it is."

"Is there are reason you're in my office, all by your lonesome?"

Robin nods, swallowing hard as he fishes the pen out of his jacket pocket. "Desperation," he admits as he shows the pen. "I'd hit a groove in preparing my opening arguments–"

"Then you've made progress?"

"I have–I think," Robin murmurs. "Or at least I'm trying to."

"That's good to hear, but it doesn't quite explain your presence in my office."

"No… no, it doesn't." He takes a breath, reminding himself to keep his voice even and light. "My pen ran out of ink. I was hoping you had some."

"And you thought to check here, rather than in the supply cupboard?"

Robin blinks. "Those cartridges don't fit this pen. It's rather old–"

"So, my office was the next logical place to look?"

"I thought I'd seen you use one like it," he offers, holding out the pen. "It's dumb, but I'm superstitious. I always use this pen for writing arguments and–" He watches as Gold's eyes narrow as he takes the pen, unscrewing the tip. "Like I said before, I'm worried about this and can use all the luck I can get it."

"I do have a pen like this," Gold tells him. "Good eye."

Robin nods. "My father gave it to me when I started law school."

"He had good taste."

"He did," Robin agrees–lying through his teeth. He had no memories of his father and the only memory of his mother was her kissing him goodbye the morning she dropped him off at a local orgaphage. The pen was old, though, and the only sentimental value it held was that sometimes Henry liked to play with it. He claimed that because it only worked some of the time, it was magic–rather than an old pen with a dried out ink cartridge. "Your secretary left for lunch–"

Gold's eyes roll. "An extra long one, I assume."

"Yes–"

"She always does that when I'm in court," Gold sighs. "I really should dock her pay."

"That seems a lot of effort–"

Gold just shrugs as his voice trails off. "I do have a cartridge for that pen," he says, rounding to the back of his desk. "Blue or black?"

"Black," Robin murmurs, watching as gold reaches into his pocket and fishes out a key, unlocking the drawer and pulling out the box of ink. "Thank you."

"Is that all?"

Robin nods as he accepts the cartridge. "I think so."

"You look stressed."

Blinking, Robin's brows arch–and then a soft and somewhat nervous chuckle escapes him. "This case is giving me a headache," he admits. "I can hardly wait til it's over."

"You aren't the only one." Gold returns the ink to the drawer and grabs the aspirin. "Here. Take two of these," he says, upcapping the bottle and letting two tablets fall into his palm. "It'll take the edge off of that headache."

"Thank you."

Gold hands him the aspirin. "So tell me, have you uncovered anything new?"

Clearing his throat, Robin nods. "I think I have a lead."

"Oh? Do tell."

"One of the maids who lived in the house who testified on Mal's behalf might've felt pressured–"

"Oh?"

Robin nods. "So, I want to talk to them again, now that a little time's passed."

"Good," Gold nods. "That's good. If one has any inconsistencies–"

"And you know," he says, laughing as he grits his teeth. "There was probably some fear of negative consequences."

At that, Gold laughs–and Robin feels his stomach lurch. "A crazy woman with a gun isn't anything to balk at. I'm sure now that some distance is between them all, things might be clearer."

"That's my hope," Robin says. "Finding some clarity."

"From what I understand, the Perraults were always good employers. Remind her of that, maybe?"

"Of course," Robin murmurs. "I've got an appointment with the maid at two, so I should be getting back to my office."

"Well," Gold sighs, "You'll update me in the morning?"

"If you'd like–"

"I would," Gold nods. "This should be an easy win for us and it's been embarrassing how little we've been able to accomplish, given that we have a literal smoking gun and–" He stops, tossing the aspirin bottle down on his desk, moving to a little cabinet beneath the window. "Never mind," he says, reaching for a bottle of scotch. "Things may be turning. I shouldn't jinx it."

"No–"

"How's your wife handling this, by the way?"

"I don't know," Robin lies. "I haven't spoken to her in… days."

"Perhaps you should."

"I'm sorry?"

"Cozy back up to her. See what information you can squeeze."

Robin grins tightly. "That's a large order."

Gold nods. "See what the maid says. Then we'll… discuss."

"Right."

"Remember, Locksley," Gold says, his voice warning as he turns from the cabinet back to Robin. "Losing this one isn't an option."

"No," Robin agrees. "I've no intention of screwing this up."

Gold grins over the rim of his glass. "Glad to hear it."

"Thank you again for the cartridge."

"My pleasure," Gold says as Robin nods and turns out of the office, releasing the breath he'd been holding in his lungs as he made his way back to the office.

 _Mal felt like she was floating._

 _It'd been two weeks since she was able to see them–two long and almost physically painful weeks of fundraisers and charity events where she'd had to grit her teeth and smile as Stefan told dull story after dull story to their fathers' rich friends and possible donors. She wasn't even sure what the parties were for–she'd been told, but she hadn't listened past that it was something to do with the war effort–and she resented the momentary stalling of her freedom._

 _But then, things went back to normal and she went back to being ignored._

 _She made an excuse about spending a couple of days visiting a friend going through a break up, and her father offered little more than a huff as he nodded and told her to have fun. He didn't ask the details and she was glad for it, and when she told Stefan she'd be leaving for a few days, his relief over being rid of her for awhile was almost palpable._

 _On her first night with them, Robin begrudgingly agreed to fill in for Graham in a trivia contest at a local bar. Regina pouted about already being in her pajamas, but they'd both gotten dressed and gone with him. It hadn't been an eventful night, but she and Regina sat at the bar, talking and drinking, munching on pretzels and beer nuts. It amazed her sometimes how easy it was to just be with Regina–and with Robin, and the combination of the two–and that no matter how long they spent apart or how much time they spent together, it was never awkward or uncomfortable, and she never tired of it._

 _And it'd be something she one day missed–and something she hoped she could return to from time to time._

 _Robin had taken them by surprise, bounding toward them and clearly drunk, as he announced that his team had won. She and Regina both smiled and laughed as they told him they were glad. His eyes had widened with excitement as he pulled three tickets from his pocket, exclaiming that they were all theirs. He offered them an exasperated little sigh when it became obvious that neither she nor Regina shared in his excitement, and he'd drawn in a short breath before launching into an explanation, explaining that the trivia team had won tickets to a jazz cover band that was playing a couple of towns over, but he was only one who didn't already have plans for the following weekend, so they'd given all three tickets to them._

 _Excitedly, he'd handed them over to Regina, and Mal leaned over to peek at them, cooing about how much she loved jazz. Regina agreed, confirming they didn't have any reason they couldn't go–and that had been that, it'd all been settled._

 _They'd spent most of the next evening getting themselves ready. Regina wore a tightly fitted black dress with a gray stitching around the hem of the skirt that complemented the gray buttons down the back and the gray cuffs just above her elbows. Earlier that day while Robin and Regina were running errands, she'd popped into a little boutique and found a raspberry-colored dress that hugged her hips and showed off her long legs. The short sleeves were loose and made of lace and the back dipped down scandalously low, and as she'd reached for a beaded black clip for her hair, a raspberry and black striped tie caught her eye–and that was the tie that Robin was wearing that night. She and Regina paired it with his black wool suit and Robin chose to forgo the jacket, wearing only the vest over his shirt. She'd grinned as she pinned up her hair, watching as Regina tied Robin's tie, pecking his lips quickly as she patted his chest when she'd finished–and as they both sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for her to finish getting ready, she felt her enthusiasm beginning to bubble. She could hardly contain her excitement at actually going out with them, and she prayed that it wouldn't be something they later regretted._

 _But when they got to the jazz club, her worries all but faded. Within minutes they noticed two women sitting at the bar. One of them was talking and the other was listening intently, holding her drink in one hand and rubbing her fingers up and down the other woman's forearm, smiling adoringly at her._

 _She'd felt a bit brazen as she reached for Regina's hand, and she couldn't help but smile as Regina's finger's curled down around hers. Robin's hand pressed at the small of her back as he guided them to their table, and she bit down on her lip as she looked around, laughing softly to herself as she realized that no one was paying them any attention._

 _Couples were cuddled up in the booths and slow dancing on the floor as a record played overhead; people flirted at the bar, sipping their drinks and smoking their cigarettes, and a group of college-aged kids danced together at the side of the stage. She couldn't quite tell if they were dancing by themselves or in a group, and it didn't matter–what mattered is she could likely get away with being affectionate with both Robin and Regina, and no one would notice or care. They'd blend in, and for once, she'd feel normal._

 _"This is nice," she murmurs, looking between them as they settle into their chairs. "I've never been here."_

 _"I've passed by it a few times," Regina admits. "I never thought to go in."_

 _Robin shakes his head. "It's no Billie Holiday, but–"_

 _"The company is_ much _better this time around," she says, cutting in and offering him a wink._

 _"I don't know what it is you two are talking about," Regina says as she plucks the drink menu up from the table and looks to Mal. "But I agree."_

 _A waiter came by and they ordered their drinks–three martinis, hers with extra olives–and she told the quick version of the story she'd told Robin about Stefan taking her to see Billie Holiday at a club in Harlem as they waited. Regina empathized with being left alone and slid her hand over hers, her engagement ring clearly visible, and when the waiter returned with their drinks, he didn't bat an eye._

 _And once again, she felt emboldened–they never got to be like this._

 _When the band was announced the lights dimmed even lower and the room had a romantic, sensuous feel to it. She watched as couples slowly left their seats to slow dance together and after a second drink, she found herself looking between them, biting down on her lip._

 _"I want to dance," she said, holding her breath as they both turned to look at her. "Who wants to dance with me?"_

 _"I think I want to see you two dance," Robin says, cocking his brow as he looks between them. "I'll stay here and guard the drinks."_

 _She watched as Regina nodded and she sighed softly, pouting a little as she looked to him. She wanted both of them. "You won't come, too?"_

 _Regina's brows arched as though the thought hadn't quite occurred to her, but she could tell by the way a grin slowly tugged up at the corners of her mouth that she liked the idea._

 _"In a little bit," he says, his voice slow and tentative._

 _"Really?"_

 _"Really!"_

 _Shaking her head, she slid out of her chair. "Something tells me you're just putting me off."_

 _"I'm not. We'll dance after… the next five or so songs." He grins as he lifts his empty glass. "After I drink up a bit more courage."_

 _"He's… not a dancer."_

 _"No?" She asks, genuinely surprise. "We've danced."_

 _"In our living room," he nods. "We did."_

 _Regina grins looking between them and her own breath caught at_ our _. "When did you two dance in the living room?"_

 _"When you were in Connecticut," Robin supplies. "And after I'd had at least three glasses of wine."_

 _"It was four," Mal tells her._

 _"See?"_

 _Regina's arm slips around her waist and she presses her cheek to her arm. She can't help but smile at her as her stomach flutters and a resigned sigh escapes her. "Alright," she concedes. "But don't think you're getting out of this."_

 _"I wouldn't dream of it."_

 _"Yes he would," Regina laughs, her hand rubbing at the small of her back. "Don't take it personally. When my cousin, Mary, got married, getting him out onto the dance floor was like pulling teeth."_

 _"I did it though."_

 _Regina's eyes roll before shifting from Robin to Mal. "Two dances," she says flatly. "I got two whole dances out of him at the very end of the night."_

 _"It's better than none."_

 _At that, Regina's eyes go wide and Mal laughs, shaking her head. "Well, if I get_ one _, I'll be happy," she admits._

 _"As long as that one is with_ both _of you."_

 _"Both–"_

 _"At once–"_

 _"Yes!" She exclaims, nodding as she brandishes her hand out at the dance floor. "I mean, look. No one will notice us. We'll blend in."_

 _"But–"_

 _"I've been watching," she cuts in. "No one is going to care that the three of us are dancing together." Sighing, she softens. "And it's so hard to do things all together. It'd be nice to just… have one night where we don't have to hide or pretend that I'm some sort of awkward third wheel."_

 _Oh._

 _She hadn't meant that to sound as heavy as it had. She only meant to tease, but their faces fall and she feels her own excitement drop._

 _"I didn't mean to imply–" She stops as Regina hugs her into her side and she can see Robin's resolve diminishing–likely out of guilt–and she feels a sharp twinge of regret at her core. She hadn't meant for that to sound the way that it had. She hadn't meant to imply that they didn't care for her. She hadn't meant that at all. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have–"_

 _"Don't apologize," he murmurs as a lopsided little grin tugs up at the corner of his mouth. "I promise. A couple more drinks and I'll join you."_

 _"Now I feel like I've guil–"_

 _"No," he cuts in. "I just need a bit more liquid courage before I make a fool out of myself."_

 _"It's true," Regina insists, squeezing her closer. "You're not a third wheel. You've never been that." She sighs and looks between them–and before she can let herself feel like she's completely spoiled the mood of the evening, Regina leans in. "Come on, let's go out there give him a little show."_

 _At that, her brow arches up and Robin smiles as he settles back, clearly liking that idea._

 _She laughs a bit as Regina takes a couple of steps back. Her hand forms around hers and she gives her a little tug, tugging her toward the dance floor._

 _"I really didn't–"_

 _"I know," Regina says before she can finish. "And so does he."_

 _"I just–" She sighs, shaking her head, wishing she hadn't said what she did. "I didn't mean to make this a heavy moment. We're out having fun and–."_

 _"You're not allowed to say that you spoiled it because you didn't. I don't think that. Robin doesn't think that, and you shouldn't think that."_

 _"Even if–"_

 _"You didn't."_

 _She nods, grinning a little as they reached the edge of the dance floor. "It's just… hard sometimes."_

 _"I know."_

 _"For the last two weeks, I've felt like I was cheating."_

 _Regina blinks. "What do you mean?"_

 _"Being with Stefan so much. I… I felt like I was cheating."_

 _"On me and Robin?"_

 _Mal nods and a soft, but uncomfortable chuckle escapes her. "How's that for irony?"_

 _"Mal," Regina says, looking up at her a slow smile edges onto her lips and her arm slips around her waist. "You need to cut yourself some slack." Drawing in a breath, she nods–and maybe Regina's right, maybe she does. "Stop beating yourself up over a non-issue."_

 _"Maybe–"_

 _"I won't deny that both Robin and I wish you could spend more time with us, but I feel like no matter how much time we had with you, it'd never be enough." Her fingers knead at her hip, and she's looking at her so sweetly and with so much love that it nearly hurts. "And I hate that we have to watch every single move we make. It's not fair, but as you pointed out, tonight isn't one of those nights."_

 _"I–"_

 _"I swear to god," Regina cuts in. "If you apologize–"_

 _"I'm not," Mal says as a soft chuckle rises into her voice. "I was just going to tell you that you're right."_

 _"Oh, well, I usually am, but–"_

 _"I love you."_

 _"I love you, too." She watches as Regina draws in a breath and then leans up onto her toes, pressing a quick, fleeting kiss to her lips. "And I really want to dance with you right now," she says, her smile growing a bit coy. "After all, we did promise Robin a little show."_

 _"And I can't imagine that us standing here talking is very exciting."_

 _"It might make him a bit curious."_

 _"Not quite what I intended."_

 _"So, let's then."_

 _Mal nods, and takes a step in, closing the gap between them. Their arms fold around each and she rests her head atop Regina's, closing her eyes and breathing her in. She feels her insecurities and worry once more beginning to fade as they sway together to the soft, soothing jazz music; and, finally, when her eyes flutter open, she can't help but notice that no one is looking at them–well, no one except Robin._

 _She offers him a little grin as she lifts her head, straightening her herself up as her eyes slide back to Regina. She takes a half step back and her hands slide down her arms, her fingers forming around her hands, as she takes a hard step in, shimming her hips as she does. Regina giggles a little and follows her lead, taking two steps back and then a step forward, her shoulders mimicking her feet, as they move to the rhythm of the song._

 _Reluctantly, she lets her go, laughing as Regina's brow arches. She steps around her so they're standing back-to-back. Regina's hips are still moving and she's looking back at her from over her shoulder, and a grin pulls onto her lips as her eyes meet Robin's, watching as he watches her shimmy downward, her body rubbing against Regina's backside. She laughs a little as Robin sips a nearly-gone martini as he smiles over the rim of the glass. She offers him a quick wink before breaking his gaze, reaching for Regina's hand and grinning as Regina once again looks back at her from over her shoulder as her finger curls down around hers._

 _Mal steps back around her and tugs her up against herself. The music slows and grins as Regina bites down on her lip–her lips suddenly looking so full and soft, and without hesitation, she leans in and kisses her._

 _Regina's tongue parts her lips, sliding against hers and she breathes her in, kissing her back as if they weren't surrounded and on display. Her hand slips over Regina's hip as Regina's foot comes up, wrapping around her calf and pulling her closer and deeper into the kiss._

 _She's vaguely aware that the song had ended and she feels a bit dizzy when a firm hand presses to her back, and before she can even process what that means, warm lips press to her neck as the smell of pine consumes her senses._

 _"I didn't know this is what dancing meant," Robin murmurs, his breath tickling her skin._

 _Regina breaks the kiss, her lips hovering for just a moment as her grin forms and her eyes shift to Robin. "You know that now that you're here, we're not letting you go."_

 _He laughs and reaches for her hand, stepping around Mal as his arm stretches around Regina's waist–and then, he reaches for her hand. Mal grins as she takes it and her heart flutters as Robin's smile brightens, his eyes sparkling, even in the dim light._

 _"Well, ladies," he says, looking between them as a new song begins. "What do you say? Can I have this dance?"_

When Robin comes into the house, he feels his shoulders relax as a smile pulls onto his lips. Mal and Regina are cuddled up on the couch together wearing bathrobes. Regina's hair is curly and natural and Mal's head rests atop her as they flip through a photo album. As he comes closer he can see that it was on from the summer before when they'd taken a road trip to the Appalachian Mountains–and he chuckled softly at the memory of Regina's eyes pinching closed as they stood atop a high bluff, refusing to look at the sunset because it'd mean acknowledging just how high up they were.

His laugh makes his presence known, and they both turn to look at him–both smiling and beautiful.

"What are you doing here?" Regina asks. "You've got at least three hours before your day ends."

"I decided to play hookie, after all."

"Well, good," Mal decides. "You're just in time for lunch."

"Speaking of lunch," he says as he sits down on the coffee table in front of them. "Do you know much about the maid who lived in the house with you and Stefan?"

"Louisa?"

"Yes."

"She was… nice," Mal says. "She used to listen to Spanish telenovelas while she cleaned." She grins. "She had a son who played soccer and liked science experiments." She grins. "She used to bring him sometimes when Stefan was away on business. I helped him make a volcano once."

"So, you… knew her well enough to know if she likes tacos."

Mal blinks. "Tacos."

"Yes. I have a dinner date with her this evening."

"Oh?"

"I'm trying to decide where to take her," he says, looking to Regina. "Preferably somewhere a certain District Attorney wouldn't be."

"Should… this be something I'm worried about?" Mal asks, looking between them, everything about her demeanor changing. "I don't understand why–"

"A technicality," Robin assures her as Regina rubs her back. "I promise."

"Um, her husband owns a restaurant," Mal murmurs. "I can get you the address. That'd probably be easiest for everyone."

"Perfect," he says, leaning forward and pecking her lips as his hand slips up Regina's knee. "It looks like you two have had a nice morning."

"The best," Regina says, grinning as she looks to Mal. "Are you here for lunch?"

"I could be," he admits. "Gold thinks I'm off interviewing people."

"Oh–"

He looks back to Mal. "I promise you. You have nothing to worry about."

"If you say so."

"Mal–"

She grins. "I'm going to go check on our lunch."

He and Regina both watch as she disappears. "I didn't mean to upset her."

"You didn't," Regina sighs. "This… isn't about you. She's just… upset, in general."

"I know. I just don't want to add to it."

Regina nods as she reaches for him, tugging him to the couch beside her. "So, why exactly do you need to interview this maid?"

"I lied to Gold and said I think she might be a character witness for Stefan."

"If I remember correctly, Louisa is the one who corroborated Mal's story about Stefan being abusive."

"Yes," he nods. "She shared some very detailed memories."

"It sounds like they were close."

Robin nods. "It does."

"So, you spoke to Gold today?"

"I did," he nods. "When he caught me in his office."

"Robin!" Regina's eyes widen as she sits up. "He _caught_ you?"

"I think I played it off well. He didn't seem to suspect."

"Robin–"

"Regina, it's fine."

Her eyes narrow skeptically, and he can tell she doesn't believe him, but she sighs and leans back against the couch. He grins as she picks up his arm and drapes it around her shoulders. "So, you got into his office. Did you find anything or did he come in before you were able to snoop?"

"No, I got to snoop," he tells her, peering down at her. "And I think I may have found something."

She blinks. "He kept something incriminating in his office?"

"Locked."

"Ah–"

"And coded."

"Oh," she murmurs. "So…"

"He had a series of meetings that started just after Mal shot Stefan."

"Well that's–"

"And it seems those meetings resulted in deposits of a grand into his account, each time."

Regina's brows arch. "Really?"

"He nods. The dates were circled on a calendar he had underneath his desk tray and in another drawer he had bank slips, that–"

"Match the dates."

"Exactly."

"That's the beginnings of a case for bribery."

"Right, I just need to… prove it."

"And that the bribes are connected to the Perraults," Regina murmurs. "I wonder if we can somehow find out where Leopold was at the time of those meetings."

He grins. "We can, possibly." Regina's brow furrows. "He has another meeting scheduled in a few days."

"Oh–"

"I could probably follow–"

"He'd see you and he might not suspect now, but–"

"What about Belle?"

Regina blinks. "You want Belle to follow him?"

"Yes."

"Hm," she murmurs, considering it. "Well, I don't think she'd necessarily be opposed."

"I don't either, and when she figures out where he's going, she and I could… meet for lunch."

Regina laughs. "Are you trying to make him think you're having an affair?"

"Maybe."

"Robin, that's–"

"He already thinks our marriage is strained."

"Because we were fighting when you first started or because–"

"Of a lot of things," he admits. "And because I told him our marriage was strained."

"Ah, so it'd be nice to prove that to him."

"Yes."

"So this is a multi-purpose date you're taking my secretary on."

"Yes."

Again, Regina laughs. "You know, she's always up for an adventure and loves helping us out."

"Think she and I could be a convincing pair?"

"No," Regina laughs. "But that's because I know you both."

"And you know she'd never be interested in me."

"It's nothing personal–"

"Just my gender."

"Well, yes."

Robin laughs. "Well, it's a good thing it's all a ruse."

"And if anything, she'll get a good meal out of it," Regina says, looking back up at him. "I can't imagine Gold going anywhere that doesn't have a five-star ranking."

"He is pretentious–"

"Mm–"

Leaning in, he presses a kiss to her hair. "So, given that you're both still in robes and look like you've recently been in the shower, I don't imagine you made it to the bank."

"No," she admits. "We were having such a nice morning. I couldn't bring it up."

"Mal isn't eager to get them."

Regina shakes her head. "And it's hard to force something that's going to be painful–"

"Especially when you might not have to."

"If the records would ever arrive."

Robin nods. "They are coming from India."

"I know," she sighs. "And something tells me they'll have something conclusive in them."

"That something being that Mal tenses up whenever we mention them."

"Yeah," she nods. "Something happened in India."

"Something she doesn't want to recount."

"Exactly," Regina nods. "And if that's the case, I don't know that we need those pictures."

"It'll depend on how it was recorded."

"Yes, which–"

"Makes it frustrating."

"I've never been good at waiting."

"I know," he laughs. "Trust me, I know."

"And I don't want to put her through–"

"Lunch is served," Mal announces, carrying a tray into the room and setting it down on the coffee table opposite them. "I hope you don't mind I finished off the wine from last night's dinner for a dressing–"

"Not at all," Regina's quick to say, sitting up at moving herself to the edge of the couch. "This looks great."

"It does. Is that quiche?"

Mal nods. "It has the ham from last night in it, and–" she gestures to the salad. "I made a salad for us to use up the greens from last night."

Robin grins. "Our garbage disposal is likely enjoying a rest."

Regina swats at him. "I don't know how, but I'm sure that was a dig at me and my culinary abilities."

"It wasn't," he laughs. "I promise." Regina's eyes roll and a soft giggle escapes Mal that makes them both smile. "It's much more to do with the fact that another person is living and eating here who isn't finicky." He blinks as Regina's brow arches as she looks to him. "You know, someone who doesn't decide they don't eat green things on any given day or that noodles are worms or crust on sandwiches is actually sandpaper and dangerous."

"I hope that's your way of saying you like having me here," Mal says, handing them each a plate of quiche. "Because… I rather like being here."

"Do you?"

She nods. "I don't remember the last time I enjoyed being at home and–"

"Home."

"Is that what you consider this?"

"I… I don't know," she admits. "That's kind of a complicated question."

"It doesn't have to be."

She blinks as she looks between them. "It's nice to pretend."

"Mal–"

She shakes her head as she rounds the coffee table to sit on the other side of Regina. "Can we just enjoy ourselves for an afternoon?"

Robin glances to Regina and she grins a bit sadly, and he nods. "I'd love nothing more."

"I mean, I spent all of twenty minutes preparing lunch, so the least you can do is enjoy it."

Regina laughs and looks to Robin, biting down at her lip. "So, you're free until you meet Louisa?"

"I am."

"So, perhaps after lunch we could… catch you up on what you missed this morning."

"It _was_ fun," Mal says, nodding as grin pulls onto her lips.

He finds himself laughing out as he looks between them, watching as Mal's arm slides around Regina's hips and they both smile slyly–and no matter what Mal says, nothing about what they're doing is pretend.

—

 _Regina smiles against Mal's mouth as Robin unhooks her bra, slowly dragging it down her arms and dropping it to the floor._

 _His lips suck at the nape of her neck–his breath warm and soothing–and she giggles, shivering, as his fingers skim down her sides before settling on her hips, his fingers pressing gently at her skin before they find the button at the back of her skirt. He undoes it and lets his hand slip inside, rubbing roughly over her thin, silky panties that separate him from her skin._

 _She lets out a breath–low and a bit rumbly, sighing as Mal's tongue swipes over her bottom lip. She can feel her smiling as she pushes herself closer, and as Regina's eyes flutter, she watches as Mal reaches for Robin. Her fingers skirt along his neck and shoulder. She barely touches him, her fingers ghosting over him in a way that's both tantalizing and sensuous, acting like little feathers brushing over flushed skin._

 _Regina pulls herself up a bit and once again, she smiles into Mal's kiss as she feels how hard Robin is–and it occurs to her that they'd probably be better off in the bedroom. But moving would mean ending what they're already doing and she's enjoying herself far too much to do that._

 _So, instead, she reaches for Mal, pushing her hand into her hair. She pulls her closer as her tongue slides against her, kissing her harder and deeper. A moan escapes her and Regina smiles, appreciating the response and once more, she feels Mal smile._

 _Her breath is becoming ragged as she once again thinks that maybe they should move into the bedroom–but nearly as soon as she thinks it, Robin's hand slips into her panties, rubbing over her ass, not stopping until his fingers slip against the wet spot between her legs._

 _His touch is like a little jolt of electricity and she sits up a bit straighter, her hand falling to Mal's bare shoulder and then–_

 _"What the fuck is going on here?"_

 _John's voice is loud and unexpected, breaking them apart and leaving her and Mal to grapple to find something to cover up with. Her heart beats wildly in her chest and her mouth is suddenly dry as Robin gets up from the couch. Robin says something that she can't quite hear over her racing heartbeat, but John just stands there with wide eyes and a slack jaw, looking absolutely appalled in his Navy dress blues._

 _"It doesn't matter if the door wasn't locked," she hears Robin say. "It was closed."_

 _"So that justifies–"_

 _"We're not going to talk about_ justifying _anything."_

 _Regina takes a breath, swallowing hard as she looks away from John, and from the corner of her eye, she can see Mal's hand trembling–and it's only then that she realizes that what's embarrassing for her is terrifying for Mal._

 _"Robin," she murmurs, clearing her throat and waiting for him to turn back to face them. "We're going to… go into the bedroom and… cover up."_

 _He nods and takes a breath as she reaches for Mal's hand–but Mal doesn't let her take it. It pains her, but she understands. She follows her, though, back to the bedroom hugging the blanket tightly around herself as they go. Regina closes the door and Mal just stands there watching as Regina pulls two robes from the hook by the door._

 _"Are you okay?"_

 _Mal doesn't respond, but she takes the robe Regina offers her._

 _"So, um… apparently John is home on leave," Regina says as she stretches her arms through the sleeves of her robe. "Nice of him to drop in."_

 _"Regina, what if–"_

 _"Mal, John is Robin's best friend. He's practically his brother. He might not like what he saw, but he'd never–"_

 _"What we're doing is illegal."_

 _Regina blinks as she knots her robe, looking back at Mal, who's still standing there with wide, terrified eyes, clutching the blanket from the couch around herself. "Hey," she breathes out. "Look, he's not going to say anything or–"_

 _"But it's out there now," Mal says. "Someone knows."_

 _"He'll keep our secret."_

 _"What if he doesn't? What if… it slips or if he confides in someone he shouldn't or–" Her voice cracks as tears fill her eyes. "Or what if he can't live with the moral im–"_

 _"Mal," Regina cuts in, closing the gap of space between them. "Hey, look at me." Mal's eyes shift up to meet hers as she takes her hand. "It's okay, it's going to be okay. He won't tell."_

 _"You can't be sure of that." Regina sighs–Mal is right, she can't be sure of it, but she is sure that Robin means the world to John and hurting him is something he'd never willingly do. "Do you know what would happen?"_

 _"Mal–"_

 _"I can't believe I've put you in this situation."_

 _"Mal, you didn't–"_

 _"So, we're not sleeping together?" She asks flatly, her jaw still trembling. "Because what you and I are doing is illegal in forty-eight states." She shrugs as her eyes fill with tears. "And you'd have never been in the position you are if it weren't for me._ I _put you in this position." Her face scrunches and flushes as her eyes press closed and Regina's heart aches as she watches tears roll down her cheeks. "If it weren't for me, you and Robin would be leading a_ completely _normal life."_

 _"Just because something's illegal doesn't make it wrong."_

 _"They could put you in a mental hospital, Regina–or a worse, a prison. They could sterilize you or lobotomize you and–" She sucks in a shaky breath. "Men could force themselves on you to try to change you and–_

 _"Mal," Regina cuts in, her voice rising over hers. "He won't tell."_

 _"But–"_

 _"Now, let's get you into that robe."_

 _Mal offers a half nod that Regina takes as her consent, and gently, she pulls her hands away from the blanket. She lets it drop to the floor before tugging free the robe that hangs over her arm. Fanning it out, she drapes it over her shoulders, smiling gently as Mal stretches her arm through the openings. She knots it around her waist as Mal reaches up and wipes away the tears threatening to fall._

 _And it's then that Regina notices a purple bruise on her inner arm._

 _"When did that happened?"_

 _"What?"_

 _Mal blinks, following Regina's gaze, and for a moment, she just stares at it. "Oh," she murmurs. "I, um…I was wearing a bangle and it was a little tight," she says, still starting at it. "When I rolled up my sleeves, the bracelet went with it and… and I guess that's the result."_

 _"You must have been pushing up those sleeves awfully hard."_

 _Mal blinks at her, then nods. "Yeah…"_

 _"Does it hurt?" She asks, reaching out and touching her fingers to the spot just above the bruise. "It's… awfully dark."_

 _"It looks worse than it is."_

 _"That doesn't answer the question."_

 _"It's better," she says, shrugging as she sniffs back her tears. "I just need to be more careful."_

 _For a moment, silence falls between them, and Robin's and John's voices have fallen quite a few octaves, and if she didn't know any better, she'd just assume they were having a normal conversation._

 _"He doesn't even sound upset anymore."_

 _"That doesn't mean that he's not."_

 _Regina's eyes narrow and she reaches for Mal's hand, leading her to the bed. "Come on."_

 _"Regina–"_

 _"Just lay here with me and relax a little."_

 _Mal hesitates but nods, and together they settle themselves in bed. Regina grins as Mal's head rests on her shoulder and breathes a sigh of relief when Mal lets her hold her._

 _"Has Robin ever told you about how he and John met?"_

 _"No."_

 _Regina grins, launching into a story that's not hers to tell. She tells her about how Robin's mother had given him up when he was little–old enough to just barely remember it–and how John was the first friend he made at the orphanage. They'd been fast friends–telling secrets and stealing candy, getting into all sorts of trouble that earned them extra chores and glares from the nuns._

 _When they were fifteen, they'd started doing odd jobs–charity work, really, during those depression years–and a childless elderly couple had taken a liking to them. They never officially adopted them, but made an arrangement with the nuns that John and Robin could stay with them until they turned eighteen–the boys would help out around the house in exchange for room and board, and the nuns had been all too eager to be rid of the troublemakers._

 _After high school, they'd gone in opposite directions–John joined the Navy and Robin won a scholarship, but even then, they'd remained close, staying in touch with letters._

 _They had a bond that was unbreakable, and it just wasn't in John's character to stay angry for long._

 _Mal nodded but remained unsure, and when they heard the front door close and Robin's footsteps coming toward the bedroom, she tensed and sat up._

 _"Well, he's gone."_

 _"And?"_

 _"And the concept of bisexuality is completely lost on him." He sighs, "So I didn't even bother attempting to explain… other concepts."_

 _Mal's jaw starts to tremble. "Um, but… what did you say to…um… explain me."_

 _"I… gave him a watered down version of the truth," he admits. "I, um… it doesn't really matter."_

 _"And you don't think he'll tell anyone?" Regina asks as Robin sits down "He'll keep our secret?"_

 _Robin nods. "I think so."_

 _"Robin–"_

 _He sighs and looks to Mal. "He's not going to say anything." Momentarily, his eyes shift to Regina and then back to Mal. "I… told him that… Regina and I were… doing a little experimenting."_

 _"Experimenting," Mal repeats._

 _"Robin, that's not–"_

 _"I know it's not what this is."_

 _"Experimenting," she murmurs again, her voice barely audible. "He thinks I'm… an experiment." She sits up and looks between them, drawing her knees up and hugging them to her chest–and suddenly, the small amount of space between them seems so vast. "Experiments are… usually so short-lived, temporary…"_

 _"Mal, that isn't–"_

 _"You are not an experiment."_

 _"But our time together is short-lived. This arrangement is temporary."_

 _"It doesn't have to be."_

 _At that, her brow arches. "Doesn't it, though?" She offers them the saddest of smiles. "You two will move on and marry, and I'll marry Stefan and–" Her eyes press closed and she draws in a breath. "And we'll all go back to being normal."_

 _"Mal–"_

 _"I've always known that this wouldn't last, but–"_

 _"Who says it can't?" Robin asks, his voice serious and his eyes wide. "Come here–"_

 _He reaches for her, and Regina can't help but smile as he pulls her to him, effortlessly pulling her into his lap and cuddling her. They settle at the head of the bed and she stretches out beside them, gently stroking her fingers over her arm while Robin spins as many scenarios as he can think of that explain just how easily the three of them could continue, no matter how far-fetched they may be–and time and time again, she finds herself thinking if only it could be as simple as he made it seem._

"We were just talking about you," Regina says, grinning as the elevator doors close behind Robin. "Well, you and lunch."

"Good things, I hope."

"I was just starting to update her on some of your recent… discoveries."

"Oh," he murmurs. "Starting?"

Belle's eyes narrow as she looks up from the menu. "Why do I have a feeling this is going to… involve me in some way?"

Robin chuckles softly. "Am I invited to stay for lunch?"

Regina laughs as Belle's eyes roll, and she holds the menu out to him. "As long as you choose quickly," Regina says. "We're just about to order, and I am _starving_."

"I'll have a burger, then," he says, handing it back to her without looking. "And fries–and extra ketchup on the side."

Belle nods and take the menu back, flipping it over in search of a phone number. "So, are you going to tell me what it is you're involving me in or do I have to guess based on the clues Regina dropped."

Regina feels a giggle bubble up in her chest as Robin shifts awkwardly on his feet, suddenly looking uncomfortable. She takes a long sip of her coffee to conceal it as Robin shoves his hands into his pockets and narrows his eyes, looking incredibly unsure.

"I was … hoping that you might like to go out."

"Out."

He nods, "On a lunch date."

Belle's brows arch. "Uh, I… I don't quite see… how that…" She sighs as a little giggle rises out of her. "That's not at all what I expected. I'm sorry. I just–"

"It's strictly professional, of course," he cuts in. "Well, sort of."

Regina bites down on her lip as Belle fidgets with the phone cord, staring quizzically at Robin. "He needs help doing a little sleuthing.

"Oh…"

"So, I need you to pretend that you and I are on a date."

Belle's face scrunches. "You and me…"

"Yes," Robin replies as a soft chuckle rises into his voice. "I… need my boss to think I'm having an affair."

"With _me_."

"Yes."

"Oh, Robin, I–" She stops, stumbling as her eyes shift to Regina. "I don't know."

"Consider it a nice meal and a paid day off," Regina says. "It'll sure beat the peanut butter and jelly sandwich you usually bring."

Belle sighs. "Sometimes I bring tuna and crackers." Both she and Robin laugh as she bites down on her lip. "So, what time would all of this be happening?"

Robin laughs softly, explaining that she'll need to do just a smidgen more than meet him at a restaurant for lunch–and the more he explains, the more relaxed she seems with the idea.

They decide that at around eleven, she'll be waiting outside of the District Attorney's office as thought waiting for a trolly. She'll keep her eye out for Gold and when he emerges, she'll follow him and then give Robin a call at the office. She giggles as she asks if they should have a code word and he laughs in return.

"This is… sort of exciting."

"So, you'll help?"

Belle nods. "Lunch two days in a row, you two are spoiling me."

"I have a feeling you'll be earning your keep tomorrow," Regina says, grinning as she turns to Robin. "And I'm glad that you're here."

"I told you I was stopping by."

"You said _might_."

"If I figured out where Gold was having is lunch meeting."

Her brow arches. "And how was I supposed to–" Sighing she stops, her eyes shifting to Belle, watching as she dials the phone, and when she looks back to him she makes an effort to be quieter. "Mal is here."

"Is she okay?"

Regina nods. "We got the pictures."

"And–"

"We haven't looked."

"Oh–"

"She's jittery."

"Well, that's understandable."

Regina nods again, clearing her throat and watching as Belle twirls the cord between her fingers. "We'll just be in my office."

"Okay," she murmurs. "I'll let you guys know when it's here."

"Thank you," Regina murmurs.

Robin follows her back and watches as he softens, an empathetic grin edge on to his lips as he spots Mal, sitting on the couch, bouncing her knees and holding onto a manila envelope as though her life depended on it.

"So, those are the infamous pictures."

"They are," Mal says in a small voice, her eyes casting down as she looks at the envelope in her hands. "This is…, so embarrassing."

"Embarrassing?"

"No, it;s–"

"I never wanted anyone to see these… or, at least not have to watch as…" She sighs. "Nevermind."

Regina feels her chest tighten. "You shouldn't be embar–"

"I let him do this to me, Regina," Mal cuts in. "I… let this happen."

"I'm not sure _let_ is the right word," Robin says as he sits beside her. "And I agree with Regina, _you_ have nothing to be embarrassed about."

Regina draws in a breath as she sinks down on the other side of Mal, stretching her arm around her. "We can do this after–"

"No," Mal cuts in. "Let's just… get this over with."

Regina holds her breath as she hands the envelope to Regina and then focuses her attention her lap, fidgeting with her fingers. Robin rubs her arm as watches her finger slip beneath the envelope flap, pulling out a stack of pictures, all the same size and wrapped in parchment–and her chest tightens again at the thickness of the pile.

"They go in order," Mal says. "Newest first, and they're dated on the back. Most of them are taken the same day or the next morning, but a few… um… a few are a couple of days later." She swallows hard and takes a breath, slowly releasing it without looking up. "Sometimes I, um… I needed a few days to, um… recover."

Regina can only manage a nod as she unwraps the pictures, her stomach already churning and her eyes already burning with tears threatening to form.

"If you, um… needed to corroborate the, um… the dates, you could probably match them against hairstyles in other pictures and–"

"Oh, Mal," Regina manages as tears well in her eyes as she looks down at the first photograph in the stack. "Oh my god."

In the photo, Mal's eyes are closed, showing off a dark bruise over her eye. There's another and her lip is bloody–and as Regina looks up, she watches as Robin's arm folds around Mal's shoulders, holding her as he stares down at the picture.

"That one was… after a fundraiser," she explains, "I think a few months ago. I, um–that was in a hotel room at the Waldorf. That was… um… the last time before I… well, you know."

"What happened?"

"Oh," she murmurs. "Um, I was stupid–"

"Mal–"

"I should have known bet–"

"Mal–" Regina cuts in again. "You aren't to blame for this."

She nods, but it's clear that she doesn't quite believe that. "One of the other wives was… drunk and… bored and we…" She sighs. "We went upstairs to get away from the smoke and… one thing led to another and… it was stupid."

"Mal–"

"I could tell that she liked me and her husband wasn't paying her any attention, and–" She sighs. "I didn't think it'd go as far as it did and I didn't think we'd get caught," she admits. "Then, all of the sudden Stefan stumbled in and…well… that happened."

"He caught you in bed with her?" Regina asks, her voice tentative as she looks between Mal and the photograph. "Or–"

"No," Mal murmurs. "We were just kissing."

"So–"

"I'm not even sure that he saw anything, but we were both flustered and… he could easily piece it all together," she tells them, finally looking up. "Like I said, I should've–"

'No," Robin cuts in. "No matter what you did, you didn't deserve _that_."

"Do you, um… do you remember her name?"

Mal blinks as her eyes shift to Regina. "I don't want to involve her."

"Mal, if she saw Stefan–"

"She didn't see anything," Mal insists. "He waited until she was gone."

Regina swallows again as her eyes fall to the photograph and drawing in a long, deep breath, she musters the courage to flip to the next one–again and again, she looks through the photographs, tears spilling over her cheeks. Not everyone is as gruesome as the first and Mal explains that most of the time, he tried to avoid her face because it made it easier to hide. But there are photographs of bruises along her neck and back, on her arms and ribs, and in one particular photo something that looks like a cigar burn on the nape of her neck.

Every now and then, she hears Robin mutter a reaction, but she can't bring herself to look away and all the while, she can't help but think of how avoidable this was, that none of it had to happen–and her heart aches.

She flips to another picture and her breath catches–finding it so much worse than the rest. Mal is laying down and her eyes are barely open, the skin around her eyes too bruised and swollen for her to do much more than squint. There's a cut along her hairline and there's blood matted in her hair, and when she finally musters the courage to look at Mal, she finds her staring at it with a far-off and almost disconnected gaze.

"A lot of the time he made excuses–that'd I'd fallen after having too much to drink or had an accident due to my own carelessness, and if my bruises were too difficult to hide, he'd locked me in my room and tell everyone that I'd gone off to Paris or Milan or Morocco to shop." Drawing in a shaky breath. "But this one, even he knew that he'd crossed a line. He made up some elaborate story about how he'd found me at our house in the Hamptons–nevermind that he brought me there after the fact–and that someone had broken in. I'd apparently gotten in their way." Blinking back her tears she lifts the photo. "This was about three days after the…um… the incident."

Regina's stomach lurches as Robin draws a breath, squeezing Mal a little closer.

"He cleaned me up and then cleaned up the mess he made of the house, and he pretended to be a doting and concerned husband and whenever the nurse was out of earshot, he'd tell me all of the terrible things he'd do to me if I told." She scoffs at the memory. "I don't know how I'd have managed to tell anyone. I was so swollen that I could barely talk and I didn't even remember what I done to–"

"Nothing," Regina cuts in. "You did _nothing_ to deserve what he did to you."

"Wh-when did all of this start?" Robin asks, clearing his throat as he blinks back tears. "I mean, for how long–"

"Um, it wasn't always this bad."

"Mal, _when_ , though?" Regina asks, reaching out and taking her hand. "After a month? A year? Five years?"

She nods. "Um, well, the first time wasn't… quite like that," she admits. "He grabbed me and threw me back, and…" She sighs. "It got worse over time."

"You didn't answer the question," Regina says gently, her voice tentative as she rubs her thumb over the back of her wrist. "Mal, when did this start?"

She hesitates, looking up and looking between them. "The first time was… a fluke, I thought," she admits. "It was just before we got engaged. He was drunk and–"

"Before you were engaged," Regina says, her eyes widening as they shift to Robin, watching the same understanding filling his eyes. "So, when we were–"

"It was better when he had Rose. He left me alone."

"And after–"

"It got worse, slowly."

Regina's eyes pressed closed, thinking about the explained-away bruises she'd notice from time to time and the feat that always ran through her when it seemed they might be caught–something that hadn't developed until much later in their relationship. She'd never said anything–but neither she nor Robin had ever pressed the issue, taking her excuses at face value and never thinking to doubt them.

"But after we were married, it just…" Her voice trails off as she stares at the stack of pictures. "He was stuck and he hated me for it." she murmurs, her voice barely audible. "He–"

"Why?" Robin asks. "Why did he marry you if–"

"The money," she says simply. "Our fathers' fortunes were connected. He had to marry me if he wanted all of it." She shrugs. "It didn't matter the sight of me made him sick, that he thought I was vile and–" She stops. "The silver lining was that I was fairly certain he wouldn't kill me. He needed me."

"For the money."

"But I think knowing that only made him angier." She pauses and looks between them, tears glistening in her eyes. "It was like the cycle we were caught in, it just… kept going and going and it would've continued on until one of us ended it."

"W-hy didn't you tell us?" Regina asks, her voice cracking. "If this was happening while we were together, why didn't you tell us?"

"We could've–"

"No," Mal says, cutting Robin off as the saddest of smiles pulls onto her face. "You two were my escape, and if you knew, well… then it wouldn't have been an escape anymore and I so desperately needed an escape."

Momentarily, Robin's eyes meet hers, and he looks just as devastating as she does–just as angry and helpless and heartbroken. Releasing another shaky breath, she scoots closer to Mal wrapping her arms around her. She has a thousand questions, but she can't quite find the voice to ask them. Robin pulls Mal closer, pressing a kiss to her hair as her head falls to his shoulder. A little whimper escapes Mal as she struggles against her tears as Robin leans back and pulls her down with him, holding her against his chest. Regina leans in, too, pressing herself against Mal's other side as though it were possible to make up for all the things they weren't able to comfort her when she actually needed them.

 _"I'm bored," Mal announces, looking over at them from her spot in the window seat. "We should do something."_

 _Lifting her head from Robin's lap, Regina looks over at her as she folds her book down over her stomach. "It's almost ten–and snowing."_

 _A little chuckle rises of from Robin. "Did you have something specific in mind?"_

 _Regina's eyes roll, but Mal smiles. "Something wintery."_

 _"What's more wintery than staying inside, wearing two pairs of pajamas, wool socks and slippers and doing whatever you can to_ not _go outside." Regina grins as Mal sighs. "You could always come over her and cuddle."_

 _"Tempting–"_

 _Robin chuckles softly. "When I was a kid, John and I we used to love when the lake froze. We he didn't have skates but–"_

 _"That's what we should do."_

 _"Mal, it's–"_

 _"Freezing, I know."_

 _"I was going to say_ late _," Regina says, sitting up as she looks to Robin. "Maybe tomorrow, we can–"_

 _"Why not go tonight?" Robin asks, looking between them and laughing as her brows arch. "What?"_

 _"The rink is closed."_

 _"So?"_

 _"So, I'd rather not be arrested for breaking and entering."_

 _"For starters," Mal says, practically bouncing up from the window seat. "It's outside, so we aren't technically breaking_ in _–" Regina rolls her eyes again as Mal comes to sit on the edge of the couch, smirking as her brow arches– "and just think of how disappointed your mother would be."_

 _"I'm in no short supply of disappointment."_

 _"It'll be fun–"_

 _"It will," Robin agrees. "And we'll have whole rink to ourselves."_

 _"And what about skates?" She asks, looking to him. "I don't own any and neither do you."_

 _"There's a cabinet filled with pairs for rent."_

 _"It's locked."_

 _"Like that's ever stopped me," he scoffs. "Besides, you don't need skates to go skating."_

 _Regina's just blinks in response–it's all that she has time to do before Mal grabs hold of her hand. "Come on, Regina. It'll be fun."_

 _She sighs as she feels her resolve diminishing as Robin's hand presses to her back. "Come on, love. Live a little."_

 _She shoots him a look, but sighs as Mal gives her hand another squeeze. "Fine, but when we all catch pneumonia–"_

 _"You'll be able to say I told you so."_

 _They all dress quickly–thick layers over thick layers, hats, scarves and doubled-up gloves–then pile into Mal's car, cranking up the heat. She turns on the radio and Robin slides his arm around her shoulders–and thought she is still adamantly opposed to the idea, she feels a bit of excitement bubbling up inside of her._

 _Only a few minutes later, they arrive the rink. Robin's the first one out, jogging over to the clearly-marked-closed concession and skate rental stand. He fidgets with the lock for a few minutes, and then turns around, grinning victoriously at them from the car–and by the time she and Mal reach the stand, Robin has two pair of skates in their sizes sitting atop the counter._

 _Mal grabs them both and tugs her toward one of the benches. She shivers as she pulls off her boots and pushes her feet into the skates, and as Robin sits down on the bench across from them, she takes one last opportunity to protest–and once again, her complaints go unheard._

 _Robin tugs her up as Mal finishes lacing up her skates, and she watches as he looks up at the snowy sky, grinning as big flakes of snow flutter down around him. He pulls her onto the ice and spins them both around and within minutes, she's laughing and dizzy. He lets her go and she glides along the ice, feeling carefree and light. She bumps into Mal, whose arm slips around her waist and she grins as she leans in to peck her lips, before pushing herself away._

 _They all spend a while aimlessly gliding and spinning around on the ice as snow cascades down around them, glittering and cold. She catches a snowflake on her glove and looks at it, smiling as Robin skates up behind her and wraps his arms around her waist. She draws in a breath and slowly lets it out, watching as her breath clouds in front of her, and when he asks if she's having a good time, without reluctance, she admits that she is._

 _Mal joins them as the wind starts to pick up, slipping her arm around Regina's waist as she looks up at Robin–and Regina's heart flutters a bit as Robin reaches out and pushes her hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. She leans in and pecks his lips before laughing out and tugging Regina away._

 _Regina finds herself laughing too as she looks up at the falling snow, letting Mal spin her. She lets her go and once again, she coats over the ice, glad when Robin catches her and pulls her close again._

 _As the snow starts to fall harder, the ice becomes less smooth, making skating difficult, and when it starts to become harder for them to see, Mal frowns and tells them that it's probably time to go. Robin nods in agreement as she feels her disappointment brimming-and without irony, she tells them she's glad they made her come._

 _They return the skates to their slots in the cabinet, and she pulls on her boots, watching as Robin stuffs a five dollar bill into one of the skates before locking it back up, and other wise leaving it as they found it. Once everything is put away, they pile back into Mal's car and drive back to the apartment, all shivering and red-cheeked._

 _"You know," Robin says as he turns their key into the front door of the diner. "I could really go for some spiced cider right about now."_

 _"We don't have any," Regina sighs. "I drank the last of it after dinner."_

 _"Granny does, though."_

 _"The diner is closed."_

 _Mal giggles as Robin's eyes roll. "And your point is….?"_

 _"You can't steal cider from Granny."_

 _"I'll leave cash on the counter."_

 _"That's not the same, Robin."_

 _Mal slips into one of the booths as Regina sighs again, watching as Robin rounds the counter and heads back for the kitchen–and when she sees the soft light from the refrigerator open, she resigns herself to what's happening and slides into the booth across from Mal. "The two of you are going to get me into trouble one of these days."_

 _"But you'll have had fun in the process."_

 _"I suppose," Regina murmurs, looking away as a smirk spread across her lips. "Tonight_ was _fun."_

 _"I told you it would be."_

 _"I wanted to finish my novel, though," she says looking back as Mal laughs. "What?"_

 _"You're so stubborn."_

 _"I know," she grins. "It's part of my charm."_

 _"You could call it that," Mal says as she pushes her feet up onto to booth opposite herself, resting her feet beside Regina. "And that novel will be waiting exactly where you left it for however long you leave it."_

 _"I know."_

 _"My cheeks are_ burning _though."_

 _"It was cold–"_

 _"And you'd better not gloat if I've got frostbite or–"_

 _"Alright, ladies," Robin calls as he comes toward them with a tray of deserts. "The cider's warming and it looks like there are some single slices of pie leftover. There–"_

 _"Is that Dutch apple?"_

 _He grins as her eyes widen as she tries to peer over the edge of the tray. "It is."_

 _"That one's mine."_

 _"How shocking," Robin says, smirking as he hands her the plate. "I'd have never guessed."_

 _"Another part of my charm."_

 _Mal giggles as Regina picks up a fork and stabs it into one of the cinnamon-glazed apples on the plate. "And for us," Robin says. "There's a slice of cherry and… I think banana creme."_

 _"We could split them, each have a little of both."_

 _Blinking, Regina looks up from her plate as she shoves the apple into her mouth. "I'm not sharing."_

 _"We wouldn't dare ask," Robin says, setting the other two plates beside Mal. "Now, I'll be back with the cider."_

 _Mal nods as Robin disappears again. "You know," she says as she picks up a fork and twirls it between her fingers. "You've never said how this apple obsession started."_

 _"It's not an ob–" She stops as Mal's brow arches. "Fine," she sighs. "I've had this_ obsession _for as long as I can remember. I've just always loved the smell and the taste and–" A little laugh rises up from her as she remembers her father lifting her onto his shoulders so she could reach one of the ripe fruits from the tree in their backyard. "My father planted some seeds when I was born and he always told me it was my special tree and–I don't know–that sort of stuck."_

 _"That's really sweet."_

 _"And so whenever I have anything apple, I… I think of him and just feel… warm." She grins. "I like that feeling."_

 _"You don't talk much about your parents."_

 _"I know," Regina admits. "My mother and I had a falling out and–my father tries, but…"_

 _"It's hard."_

 _"Yea," she nods. "He and my mother aren't terribly close, but–"_

 _"He's stuck with her."_

 _Regina nods as she presses her fork into the pie crust, suddenly thinking that Mal would understand her father's position better than anyone. But before she can say anything, Robin returns carrying three steaming mugs of cider. He pushes a much in front of each of them and takes the last for himself, then slides into the booth beside Mal and picks up a fork, stabbing it into the tip of the cherry pie._

 _They fall into an easier, lighter conversation than the one she and Mal had been headed toward–and then it halts as Robin notices a bit of whipped cream at the corner of Mal's mouth. Her eyes widen as she swipes her hand over her mouth, completely missing the whipped cream. Regina laughs as she stabs her fork into a particularly cinnamon-y apple as Robin sets down his fork, leaning in and kissing away the whipped cream. A smile draws onto her lips as Mal turns to kiss him–and for a moment, she just sits there, eating her pie and watching them kiss, feeling warm and content._

 _And then the lights flip on._

 _Mal pushes him away as her cheeks flush and Regina finds herself whirling around to see Granny standing at the bottom of the stairs._

 _"I heard voices," she says, yawing as she shakes her head. "Thought I was being robbed."_

 _"Oh, no–"_

 _"I'm sorry," Regina begins. "We–"_

 _"Did you kids lock up when you came in?"_

 _"We did," Regina assures her._

 _"Are you eating my pies?"_

 _"Just the left–"_

 _Granny waves her hand dismissively as she yawns again as her eyes steady on Robin. "And you left the money in the usual spot?"_

 _"Of course, I did–and a bit extra."_

 _Granny snorts and grins. "The tip for the heart attack you three caused."_

 _"Sorry about that," Regina murmurs, smiling a built guiltily. "And we'll clean up after ourselves. Promise."_

 _"Alright then," she says, already half turned back to the stairs. "Enjoy yourselves."_

 _They all wait until they hear Granny's door open and close, both she and Robin focusing on Mal. "I don't think she–"_

 _"I nearly swallowed my tongue!" Mal says in a loud whisper._

 _"No, you nearly swallowed_ mine _," Robin says, chuckling softly as both she and Mal dissolve into a fit of nervous giggles._

Everytime she closes her eyes, she sees an image of Mal beaten and bloody, and all alone, and her stomach aches–and no matter which way she turns, she can't seem to let herself relax.

They'd spent a quiet night in, ordering Chinese takeout and playing board games as they took turn choosing their favorite old records to play–and at Mal's request, they didn't talk about the pictures.

They'd done their best, but it seemed that every time a quiet moment came upon them, someone's thoughts would drift to that afternoon and inevitably, a heavy feeling would overtake it. Eventually, Mal retired early to bed, feigning a headache. She and Robin cleaned up and had a drink, then joined her, deciding a good night's sleep might do something to alleviate the unsettled feeling they both felt.

But it hadn't worked.

Her eyes flutter open and she rolls onto her side, giving her eyes just a moment to adjust to the darkness of the room–and when they do a soft smile edges onto her lips. Mal is sleeping at her side, looking so peaceful and content

And as her eyes flutter open and she rolls onto her side and though Mal was still asleep beside her, Robin's side of the bed was vacant. The covers her were pulled back and there was a still a dent in his pillow, and as she sat up, she saw a little strip of light from beneath the door.

She finds Robin in the kitchen, sitting at the table with Mal's pictures set out before himself. His jaw is tense and his eyes are bloodshot, and when he looks up at her, all he can do is shake his head.

"I know," she murmurs as she sits down beside him and lets her head drop to his shoulder. "I feel the same way."

"We could have stopped this."

"I know."

"And I'm not blaming her," he says as he lifts one of the pictures. "But I just can't wrap my head around why she married him. He might've been in it for the money, but she wasn't."

"I'm sure she had her reasons, but–"

"She didn't want to marry him."

"I know," she says again. "She was always quite clear about that."

"How did we _miss_ this?" He asks, dropping the picture down and looking at her. "How did we–" He stops and momentarily, his eyes press closed. "After she left, you and I should have…"

"What could we have done?" Regina asks, her heart aching as she reaches for his hand. "By the time we got that letter, she was gone. How would we have found her?"

"After, though," he sighs. "Do you remember the first time we saw her in the paper?"

"Smiling on Stefan's arm at some gala in India."

"That was never what she wanted. She might've been out of reach at first, but it didn't stay that way–"

"I know," she murmurs. "I just ever thought–"

"I didn't either," he supplies when her voice drops off. "I thought at worst, she'd be bored."

"If only…"

Robin picks up another picture and rubs his finger over the image of Mal's jaw. "If he weren't already dead–"

"I'd have killed him already," Regina says. "You wouldn't have gotten the chance."

A sad little grin tugs up at the corner of his mouth. "I keep thinking about Gold and the way he's been pushing for a conviction at any cost, and–"

"These are exactly the sort of images he wouldn't want to see."

"I don't think he'd care," Robin admits. "Remember he suggested I create evidence. He's not interested in _actual_ evidence, especially when its contrary to his goals."

Regina nods and picks up a photograph from the stack. Mal is standing in front of long mirror with her skirt undone and her blouse lifted up to reveal a dark bruise over her ribs. She focused on the bruise for a minute, then at the disheveled room. There's an overturned lap and her dressing table's been cleared, its contents on the floor behind her–and the longer she stares at it, she feels her sadness beginning to boil, not so slowly turning to anger.

"I'm sure the pictures would just… disappear, if they were ever in Gold's possession."

"I just don't see how anyone could look at these pictures and not be affected."

"You've always had more faith in humanity than I–" She stops, her eyes widening as she looks to him. "Robin, you're not considering appealing to Gold's–"

"No," he says too quickly. "That was just a… general assessment," Robin sighs. "But if I can't prove Gold has something to gain in all of this, I… don't know what I'm supposed to do." He looks away and momentarily, his eyes press closed. "Aside from throwing the case."

"Robin, you can't–"

Robin scoffs, not letting her finish. "You've been telling me for years how questionable my ethics are."

"When it matters, you always fall on the right side of things," she tells him as she drops the picture back onto the stack. "You've got a knack for it."

"And who says throwing the case wouldn't be another example of falling on the right side of things."

"I just think there are better ways to–" She stops, offering a sigh as her head falls back. "We're not going to fight about this."

"No," he murmurs. "That wouldn't help anyone."

"Especially not Mal." Taking a breath, she stands and moves to the cabinet, pulling out a bottle of bourbon–an expensive one that'd been an anniversary gift from her father. "How about getting drunk instead?"

"Not sure that'll help, but it might make me feel better," he sighs as he pushes the photographs into a neater pile. "But it might fool me into thinking that I do."

"My hopes exactly," she says, reaching for the glasses. "You know–"

She stops as Robin reaches for the envelope, his brow creasing as he feels something inside of it–and when he turns it over, another smaller envelope falls out of it. For a moment, they both just stare at it. Her stomach churns as Robin reaches for it, slipping his finger beneath the flap–and when he pulls out a smaller stack of pictures, she recognizes them immediately, remember the morning Mal had brought her camera into their bedroom.

"Oh–"

"Regina–" Robin turns one of the photographs for her to see. It's been crumpled up and torn apart, then smoothed out and taped back together–and it shows the three of them, smiling and bare shouldered, and undeniably in bed together.

"He knew," she hears herself say as her stomach drops and her knees go weak, forcing her into the chair with the realization that, at some point, Stefan knew about Mal's affair with them, and that was likely the reason that Mal left so abruptly.


	4. Chapter 4

Robin laughs as Regina clutches to his arm as they make their way upstairs, stumbling and giggling as they make their way to their apartment. **  
**

It's not often that Regina does this–goes out with the rest of their cohort and lets loose, letting her guard down and getting drunk with the group–and he's glad for it.

Law school has been hard on her and as the only woman in their group–a woman of Puerto Rican descent, no less–and she's constantly struggled to prove herself to their professors and their peers, and though for the entirety of their time in school, she's remained at the top of their class, it never seemed good enough and she always felt like they were all just waiting for her to falter.

But that night, she didn't turn down the invitation, and as far as he knew, she didn't view it as a obligatory offer extended to her so that he could go out. She drank and played darts and pool, she'd talked and laughed, and drank some more. They'd danced together for awhile, but they spent most of the night crowded around a table with Jefferson and Graham and the rest of their peers. She let them tease her and he was glad to see her take it in stride, giving it back to them just as easily– he'd almost hated to leave.

They'd walked back to Granny's slowly, holding hands as they laughed together.

He holds her a little tighter as he fishes out his keys, debating if he should try to sober her up before going to bed or open up a bottle of wine and keep this going.

Regina smiled up at him as she nuzzled against him, her fingers gripping at his jacket–and reluctantly, he resigned himself to putting on a pot of coffee in spite of the hour. There was some left over danish that Granny had given them that morning–slightly burned, but otherwise fine–and he figured that would soak up some of the alcohol and help keep the aspirin he'd give her from upsetting her stomach.

"So, are you in a cheese mood or a cherry?" he asks as he finds the key to their apartment.

"No apple?"

He grins as he shakes his head. "The bottoms of those didn't burn. Granny only brought up the–"

He pushes the door open and flicks on the light, and then stops in his tracks, surprised to find Mal asleep on the couch with a book over her stomach.

This isn't the first time that they've come home to find Mal in the apartment, but it was the first time they'd found her there asleep–and for whatever reason, that detail made him smile.

One of her legs is stretched out on the the length of the couch as the other hangs off the edge. Her head is tipped to the side and wedged against the arm without a pillow–and if she stayed like that, she'd be paying for it in the morning.

Regina's eyes widen as she looks to him, a smile slowly stretching across her lips. "Mal's here."

"I see that," he says, chuckling softly.

"She's sleeping."

"I see that, too."

Then, Regina frowns. "Did we know she was coming? I wouldn't have gone out if I knew–"

"We didn't know."

He tosses down the keys and lets go of Regina, grinning as she moves cautiously toward the couch and plucks the book off of her, carefully–and almost painstakingly–folding down the corner of the page the book was opened to to save Mal's spot.

"I wish I'd known."

"Me, too," he admits, wondering what brought her to them and hoping she had time to stay the following day, that they hadn't lost too much time with her. "Alright, I'm going to get her into bed, then you and I are–"

"I'm coming, too."

"You need some coffee and–"

"I'm fine, Robin," Regina says, slowly and unconvincingly. "I'm barely dunk."

"Dunk–" He repeats, laughing softly. "You forgot a letter in there, love."

"I said drunk," she insists, her brow furrowing. "I did. With all the letters"

"Sure," he grins, bending as he slips his arms beneath Mal's knees and shoulders. "If you say so."

"I do say so and I'm mever wrong."

He blinks. "Mever, huh?"

"Nope," she says easily, still not catching the obvious slurring–and he can't help but grin at her, and that's what catches her notice. "What?"

"You're adorable when you're… not drunk."

Her eyes roll as she follows behind them, turning on the lamp as he carries Mal into the room. He settles her on the bed, pulling the covers up around her and grinning as she twists onto her side and hugs the blanket to herself.

"She's cute when she sleeps."

"She is," Robins agrees, nodding. "Why don't you get into your pajamas and get into bed with her, and I'll go and grab those danish."

"Cherry."

"Hm?"

"I want a cherry one," she tells him. "Since there are no apple."

"Alright," he says easily. "One cherry danish, coming up."

He kisses her cheek and disappears from the bedroom, quickly making his way across the apartment into the kitchen. A wistful little smile draws onto his lips as he sees the solitary tea cup in the sink and he wonders what brought her here tonight, and he hopes she wasn't too lonely.

He chooses chamomile tea over the coffee and selects two danish to put on a plate–and then, as he waits for the water to boil, he chooses a third danish, just in case and then as he selects cups, he also pulls out a third, filling them all with water and dropping a bag of tea into each. There's lemon already sliced in the refrigerator and he pulls it out, grabbing the carton of milk and putting a little in the bottom of Regina's cup. He turns off the burner and loads the danish and tea onto a little tray, making a mental note to grab some aspirin for Regina as he goes back to the bedroom.

He rounds the corner carefully and grins when he spots Mal, sitting up with her legs folded beneath herself, doing her best to stifle a laugh.

"She's incredibly drunk," Mal says, blinking groggily as she looks up at him as she grins.

"But is she drunk or dunk?" Robin asks, setting the tray down and winking when Regina frowns. "I brought some tea and–"

"I'm really not," Regina cuts in, earning an eye roll from both him and Mal. "I'm not."

"Sure, love," he says, padding into the bathroom and grabbing two aspirin and filling a little paper cup with water. "Well, just in case, take these."

Regina looks down at them in her palm and looks like she's about to protest, but Mal's hand presses to her back, rubbing softly. "Go on. Take them."

Regina nods, accepting the water as Robin gets into bed with them, careful not to tip the tray. He hands them each a cup of tea and a danish and Mal grins at the wedge of lemon beside her cup.

"You weren't waiting for us too long, we're you?" He asks, looking at Mal as he takes the paper cup back from Regina. "I hate to think you were left here, bored and–

"Oh," Mal breathes out, shaking her head. "I wasn't bored at all. Granny kept me company for a bit."

"Granny–"

"Mm," she nods. "I came in through the back, but when I realized you guys weren't here, I went downstairs for a bit. Granny fed me dinner and told me you'd gone out for drinks at the Rabbit Hole with friends."

"You should've joined us," Regina says, a little louder than necessary. "Cocktails were half priced."

Mal giggles. "Somehow, that doesn't surprise me."

"You really should have–"

"I wasn't up for a party," Mal says. "So, since I'd come all this way, Granny sent me upstairs with a large piece of her coconut cream pie and–"

"She sent you up?"

Mal nods. "Well, she knew how far–"

"Right," Robin nods. "She's seen you around enough."

Mal's eyes widen as she grins. "Well, you and Regina are such good friends–"

"Friends," he laughs. "Right."

"We're friends," Regina cuts in. "And… more than friends." She looks between them, clarifying unnecessarily. "It can go both ways."

"I know," Mal murmurs, reaching for her hand and giving it a little squeeze. "Of course it does. And being friends and more is always the best way."

Robin considers that for a moment. He doesn't like to think of Stefan, but he can't help but wonder. "Did something happen?"

Mal hestates for a moment, then shakes her head. "I just… wanted to be alone for awhile." Regina's brow furrowed, and he can tell she has a question, but she doesn't ask it and likely can't quite pinpoint the words she wants to use, so instead, she listens. "After dinner, I got a big piece of pie and brought it up here. I made some tea and lost myself in my book for awhile." She grins. "It was nice."

"So, you came here, not realizing we were out, to be alone?"

Mal blinks, considering his question.. "Coming here is just… a default. I didn't realize I wanted to be alone until Granny said you'd gone out." She shrugs her shoulders and momentarily presses her eyes closed, and he sometimes when she does that, he wonders if she's giving them the full story or if she's taking time to pick apart the details she's open to sharing. "Stefan and I got into a stupid argument about… something," she sighs. "I don't even know what it was about, really." She shrugs. "I stormed off and… well, I needed somewhere to storm off to, so I came here."

"Well, I'm glad you're here," Regina tells her, grinning over the edge of her tea cup. "Can you stay?"

Mal nods, "Tonight and tomorrow."

"And the day after."

"I should be getting back," she tells her. "I–"

"But tonight doesn't count," Regina says, her voice insistent. "Because… I'm… I'm drunk and I'm probably going to sleep tomorrow away because of a hangover and… and… I won't get any time with you." She frowns. "It'll be like you weren't here at all."

A grin twists onto Mal's lips as her eyes slide to Robin, watching as he chuckles softly, and then her attention turns back to Regina. She drapes her arm around Regina shoulders. "I'll stay. You've convinced me."

Regina grins and a soft chuckle escapes him. "That's probably a smart move."

"Oh?"

His eyes narrow. "You've… never had the experience of severely hungover Regina, have you?"

"Severely?" Mal asks, shaking her head after a moment. "No, I don't think so."

"I'm not that bad."

"She is that bad," Robin tells her. "And you'll need a day to recover from her."

Regina's eyes roll and she crosses her arms over her chest in an effort to pout–but when she does, some of her tea spills over the rim of her cup and onto her. She blinks looking down it, then back up, looking between them as her cheeks flush–and neither he or Mal can resist the urge to laugh.

Robin pushes himself closer to her and loops an arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him and kissing her hair as she laughs–and as he does, his gaze catches Mal, watching as she watches them with soft and sweet smile and though they can never have her for very long, he's glad for what they do have.

Mal's eyes flutter as she rolls onto her back and stretches out–and it's then that she realizes she's alone in bed.

Opening her eyes, she looks to either side of her, finding Robin and Regina's spots vacant. She sits up and rubs her hands over her eyes, feeling confused as she looks to the window. The curtains are drawn, but she can see warm sun peeking through the sliver of space between the panels and whens she looks to the alarm clock on Regina's side of the bed, she finds that it's far too early for them to have left for the day.

Looking around the room, her eyes settle on one of Robin's robes hanging on the back of the closet door. Shivering, she pushes away the blanket and gets out of bed, padding to the robe and wrapping it around herself.

She looks in the bathroom, finding the light off and the room empty, so she goes down stairs–and that's where she finds them.

Them and the pictures.

She sighs as her eyes pressed closed, and roughly, she pushes her fingers into her hair as she collects herself a bit–pushing away the urge to cry, reminding herself that what's done is done, and there's nothing she can do to change it. She made her choices and now, she's dealing with the consequences of them.

She hates that she had to show them the pictures and she hates that she's had to look at them, but most of all, she hates the memories that they conjure and she hates that she allowed herself to be so helpless.

She scoops up the pictures and as her eyes fall to them, and for a minute, all she can do is stand there and smile.

Robin is sitting on one end of the couch, his feet propped up on an ottoman and a throw pillow jammed behind his head. His arm is loose around Regina, who's cheek is pressed to his chest as she sleeps, her arm around his stomach and her fingers clenched around the hem of his shirt.

For so long, she refused to let herself think of them–refused to think that they were anything but living happily ever after, and when she sees them as they are now, it's hard to argue that they weren't.

Even if they say they weren't completely happy without her, they were happy enough and that's what matters.

Without looking at the pictures, she forms a stack, patting the edge as she reaches across the table for a rubber band–and as she does, Robin stirs.

His eyes flutter open as he straightens himself up, smiling as the sight of her–and as he moved, Regina lifts her head, blinking groggily up at her.

"What time is it?"

"Almost six."

"Oh–"

"You two left me all alone in bed," Mal tells them, a soft laugh bubbling up from her. "I'm not used to having all that space anymore."

"Mm, I don't think we meant to fall asleep down here," Regina says, lifting her head and sitting up beside Robin. "And my head is killing me."

"We did an awful lot of drinking," Robin admits. "Drinking and… strategizing."

"You were working?"

Robin's eyes slide to Regina and then he looks back at Mal, shaking his head. "Uh, not… not exactly."

"We were fantasizing about all the way we could've killed Stefan," Regina says plainly, making no attempt to soften it. "Quartering is still legal in some parts of the world–"

"And castration–"

"We thought a mix of both would be fitting," Regina tells her. "And if somehow he survived that, we could leave him in the desert to be picked apart by wild birds."

Mal's brows arch–and she can't forget that she had several similar thoughts that she'd never actually admit to having. "That's incredibly… dark…."

"It'd have been deserved," Regina says easily.

"Well," she breathes out. "I won't argue with that… clearly." Mal stretches the band around the pictures and puts on a smile, looking between them. "You two look… like you could use a hearty breakfast to… soak up whatever it was that you drank last night."

Regina's eyes roll as she looks to Robin. "Why do I always think this won't happen?"

"A shower will help," Mal says. "A hot shower, some aspirin and–" A soft giggle escapes her. "Croques madames and some honey oatmeal, maybe some ginger tea—"

"Your hangover-cure breakfast."

Robin laughs as he nudges Regina. "At least this time, no one will have to force feed you."

Her eyes widen and Mal giggles, remembering it. "I could barely lift my head–"

"So, why don't you two–"

"Wait."

Mal's voice comes to a halt as Regina stands, looking back at Robin momentarily–and when he offers a subtle little nod, Regina looks back to her, and she feels her stomach drop.

"Why did you leave?"

Mal blinks. "We've… talked about that. It's like I said–"

"We know what you said," Robin cuts in as he rises up from the couch. "But we're asking again."

"But nothing's changed."

They exchange looks and she sighs, her eyes momentarily pressing closed. Something has changed.

"I don't know if you know," Regina begins, "But there was a second envelope of pictures."

Her eyes open and for a moment, she just stares at them–and then, she remembers it. "Oh…"

"You forgot about it."

"I did," Mal hears herself say as her heart begins to beat a little faster. "It was so long ago and, I never actually looked in the envelope when I added pictures. I just… tucked them away."

"Understandably," Robin says, his voice soft. "Why would you?"

She watches as he turns, picking up the tattered and torn picture that she'd painstakingly taped back together. He holds it out to her as his arm slips around Regina's waits, and for a moment, all she can do is stare at it–stare at it and remember.

She'd been out that day–shopping with her mother as they went in and out of little boutiques as she tried to push away any conversation that had to do with her upcoming wedding. For the longest time, she'd been able to use the war as an excuse and her parents had accepted that; but the war was coming to an end and her father and soon-to-be father-in-law were beginning to grow impatient. Stefan didn't want to marry as much as she didn't–it was the one thing which united them–and the more their fathers pushed them toward a wedding, the angier he got.

And once Rose left him, any resolve he had to fight against his father's wishes dissolved–which only made him angier, and lately, that anger was directed at her.

Her parents had only been back from Newport for a day and already, they'd made dinner plans for that evening with friends–a planned thing that meant most of the house's staff got an evening off, and meant that the house was empty. She was supposed to go with them, but she hadn't felt well that night and convinced her mother she needed to go home and put up her feet. It occurred to her to just keep driving–and there's a part of her that still wished she had, that she'd driven to Robin and Regina's apartment and spent the night with them–but truly, she felt like she needed to put her feet up and wasn't sure she'd be able to make the drive, so she'd just gone home.

She'd tossed down her bags and flopped back on her bed, thinking to herself that maybe Granny was right and maybe she should go and see a doctor–and that's when she'd noticed the closet light was on. She never turned it on and thought it was odd, but still, she didn't suspect anything amiss, thinking a maid might've been careless when putting away her laundry. So, she'd rolled off the bed to turn it off, and that's when she noticed the state of it.

Her clothes were pulled from shelves and hangers, balled up on the floor. The drawers were open and boxes were pulled from their place, their contents dumped out on the floor with her clothes.

It'd been then that she started to panic–her heart racing as she searched for her picture box–and when she didn't find it, tears burned in her eyes. She'd stood up and turned–and that's when she saw Stefan, standing by her bed. His eyes were glazed and she could tell that he'd been drinking and his voice had been chillingly calm as he held up her picture box and asked if that was what she was looking for.

She demanded he give it back to her, that it was hers and it was personal–and his response had been to laugh at her. She'd tried to reach for it, but he'd pushed her back onto the bed. She'd watched as he plucked one out and then threw the box into the fireplace. He called her a thousand vile things and told her that having to marry a person like her made him sick–and when she dared suggest that maybe he shouldn't, maybe he should break off the engagement, he laughed again, telling her that if that were actually a choice, he'd have left years ago.

He went on about the money and the company–and when she confessed she didn't want it, that he could have it if it meant that he'd leave her alone, he laughed again and told her how stupid she was for thinking so simply. Her eyes focused on the picture as he went on about the terms of her father's will and how he'd safeguarded her interests–and then, his voice dropped, low and calm, as he explained that he now had to safeguard his.

He'd torn up the picture and threw it at her and as she sat up to collect the pieces, he'd pushed her back down once more taking the opportunity to explain what a vile person she was.

Her hand trembles as she reaches for the picture, taking it from Robin and looking down at it, the memory of Stefan's voice so loud and clear as if he were the one standing in front of them.

"He found it," she admits, her voice barely audible as she focuses on the picture. "He… he found out about us."

"Mal–"

"Why didn't you–"

"He threatened you," she says, looking up. "He said that he was going to do all of these awful, awful things to you, and–" Her eyes fill with tears. "He was so connected, connected to powerful people and–" Her voice cracks as she looks down at the picture. "Regina, you worked so hard and you were so proud of what you'd accomplished. I couldn't… I couldn't let him…"

"Let him, what?" Regina asks, her voice small. "Mal?"

"He reminded me that what we were doing was quite illegal–"

"But–"

"He said he knew a judge and–"

"What? He'd have me disbarred before I even–"

"Lobotomized."

Regina's eyes widen and instinctively, Robin pulls her a little closer. "That's not–"

"It fell out of practice," Mal nods. "But it still happened sometimes and there was no law saying it couldn't."

"I… I don't know what to say."

"Mal–"

"So, I had to leave. I couldn't let him–"

"Mal," Regina says again, taking a step toward her. "I wish you'd have–"

"I couldn't tell you," she says, reaching out and taking Regina's hand. "I couldn't tell either of you. You were the easier target, but…" Her voice trails off as she looks to Robin. "He'd have made your professional life hell, too… not to mention what it'd have been like for you to lose Regina."

"But you were–"

"I couldn't let that happen because of me."

"None of it would have happened because of you," Robin tells her. "You weren't in the wrong."

Taking a breath, she swallows back the urge to cry, forcing herself to keep her tears at bay. "Besides, what we had was always meant to be temporary. It was bound to end somehow."

"I disagree–"

Regina nods. "I could have–"

"No," Mal cuts in, smiling as her voice rises over theirs. "It would have never worked. I just… wish that…" She stops herself from finishing that thought because it isn't true–she didn't wish that what they had could have ended on better terms because she never wanted it to end in the first place, even if she knew that it had to. "Well, regardless," she says, taking a quick breath as she blinks back her tears. "I'm glad to have the chance to rewrite our end."

"Mal–" Regina says, squeezing her hand. "It doesn't have–"

"It does," she says, shaking her head as she looks between them. "But as I said, I'm glad for this chance." She forces a smiles as she leans in and presses a kiss to Regina's cheek, then leans up onto the tips of her toes to peck Robin's lips. "Go take some aspirin and get in the shower while I make breakfast," she tells them as she pulls back. "I'll let you know when it's ready."

She doesn't wait for them to respond, and she's glad that she's able to make it to the kitchen before her tears betray her, spilling down over her cheeks–and it takes her a moment to realize that she's not crying over what happened all those years before, but what's going to happen in the not-so-distant future because she knows that despite allowing what they have to end on her terms, it's going to gut her, just as it did before.

Mal's arms cross over her chest and her brow arches as she watches Robin setting up a lawn chair on the fire escape–and when she looks to Regina, her eyes roll and she shrugs, offering no more of an explanation than that.

Robin comes back in, looking happy as a clam, and she trails behind him, watching as he opens up the freezer and pulls out a frosty bag of ice, dumping its entirety into an old metal cooler that sits atop the counter.

"What… are you doing?" she asks, watching as he turns to the refrigerator, pulling it open and grabbing as many bottles of beer as his hands will hold.

"Getting ready," he replies simply as he drops the beers into the cooler–and she laughs quietly to herself, watching as he buries them into the ice as if it weren't a mild day in the middle of April. "I've been preparing for this all year."

"It's true," Regina says, pushing into the kitchen and leaning against the counter, resting her elbows on the wooden countertop as she looks between them. "He bought that chair as soon as it hit the store… in February."

"I want to be comfortable," he tells them, closing the cooler and turning toward the cabinet, pulling out a foil bag of pretzels. "I've got my chair and my beer–"

"The expensive kind that he only gets for special occasions," Regina adds.

"So, as I was saying," he says, sighing as his eyes roll. "I've got a comfy chair, my fancy beer, snacks and, god-willing, a radio that doesn't lose its signal."

"For what though?"

"Opening Day," he tells her, as if it should have been obvious. "Baseball season starts today."

"Oh," she frowns, slightly disappointed, though she's not entirely sure why. "I didn't realize you were a fan."

"Robin is a fair-weather fan," Regina explains. "He likes the start of it all, and then when they don't do as well as he'd hoped, his interest fizzles." Mal looks between them as Regina grins as Robin frowns. "He usually uses school as the excuse."

Robin's eyes roll again, but he turns back to the cabinet and fishes out a popcorn tin, saying no more about any of it as he ignites a burner on the stove and sets the tin on top of it–looking adorably excited as he stands there impatiently, waiting for the popcorn to start to pop.

"And do you participate in this little ritual?"

"No," Regina says, shaking her head. "I've got some reading to do for a class and–"

"Well, that's no fun," she says, pouting. "He's occupied with his game and you're going to be pouring over some boring thing all afternoon." And then, a soft little grin edges onto her lips and a little laugh bubbles out of her as Regina's brow arches. This is just the sort of afternoon she secretly loves spending with them. "I suppose I'll just have to find something to do, then."

"I suppose you will," Regina says, leaning up onto the tips of her toes and pecking her lips. "I'm going to get started. The sooner I'm done–"

"That's funny," Mal cuts in. "You make it sounds as if you won't read whatever it is you're going to read four times over and then color code your notes on it."

That earns a little grunt of a laugh from Robin and an eye roll from Regina–and without commenting, Regina returns to the living room as Robin's popcorn starts to pop.

Mal follows her, sitting with her legs folded beneath herself in an armchair, watching as Regina spreads out her things on the coffee table–paper clips and little scraps of paper, a black and a blue fountain pen, an assortment of colored pencils and a yellow legal pad, flipped to a clean page.

It amuses her to watch Regina in this mode–so adorably nerdy and focused–as she settles herself in front of the coffee table, almost excitedly reaching for the binder that contains what looks like several hundreds typed out pages.

Reaching into a bag she pulls out a stack of magazines, choosing the National Geographic one as Robin hauls his cooler and snacks to the windows. She flips through the first few pages as he climbs out onto the fire escape, arranging his cooler and snacks–and then, when his things are settled, he climbs back into the apartment to get the radio. Her brow arches and Regina pauses to roll her eyes as Robin lifts it up, showing that he's already connected it with several extension cords so that it can easily reach the fire escape.

"You could just… turn up the volume, you know," Regina says, not looking up from her reading.

"Then you'd have the option of turning it down."

"Sounds like you're speaking from experience," Mal giggles, watching as Robin sets the radio onto the table.

"We may have been through this charade once or twice… or forty times."

Robin doesn't say any more as he climbs back onto the fire escape, positioning the radio on the window sill. He finds his station and then settles into the chair, leaning back as he reaches for a beer–and suddenly, the national anthem is playing loudly and making Regina mutter things under her breath.

For awhile, she just sits there, flipping through her magazines–moving from National Geographic to Vogue to Life–entertained just by watching them. She likes moments like these–quiet ones, where it's just the three of them in their apartment, doing perfectly mundane things at home–and she likes that her visits aren't a production. They don't drop whatever they're doing to entertain her, they don't make special plans. They just go about their day and let her be there with them, and it makes her feel like she really belongs there, that she's not just borrowing time with them, not just there for a short stay.

Every now and then something happens in the game that gets a little rise out of Robin and every now and then, he sits up straighter and listens intently to something happening; and similarly, Regina gets very intense whenever she reads. She can always tell when she's read something that she doesn't agree with. Her eyes narrow slightly and she bites down on her lip as though getting ready to argue with the paper in front of her as she reaches for a pen and scribbles something onto a scrap of paper, tucking it roughly against the page with a paperclip.

Mal makes her way through that stack of magazines and fishes out the last one in her bag, remembering an article she'd been particularly interested in–something about gliders in Alaska–in an old copy of Popular Science she'd found covered in dust and bound with some others that her parents meant to toss out.

But instead of focusing on the article, she finds her eyes wandering, watching the way Regina absently twirls one of the pens between her figners as she chews at her lip. Her hair is up and a few loose strands hang down from her messy bun, and when she turns and tips her head to the side to consider a point, she can't help but focus on her neck that looks like it's just begging to be kissed.

A little grin pulls onto her lips as she looks to Robin, happily content on the fire escape, sipping his beer as he listens to his game–and then, she looks back to Regina, deciding if she's going to succeed in distracting anyone today, it's going to be her.

"Do you want anything to drink?" she asks as she drops her magazine into her lap. "I'm kind of thirsty."

"Sure," Regina murmurs, offering nothing more.

"I can make tea or–"

"Whatever you get, just bring me that."

"Okay," she says, getting up from the chair and padding into the kitchen, glancing over at Robin as she goes. She laughs softly to herself as passes him, completely unaware of anything happening in the apartment–and she wonders if she can't tease him a bit, too.

She loosens two of the buttons on her cardigan as she goes into the kitchen and opens the refrigerator, deciding to snag a bottle of beer. She grabs two glasses and a bottle opener, deciding she and Regina can split it; then, as she turns back to the counter to grab the beer, she hesitates momentarily. Biting down on her lip, she looks at the bottle, remembering what Regina said about this beer being expensive and for special occasions–and then, she reminds herself that she's not at home and the rules that govern her there don't apply here. There's little to no chance that Robin would be upset about it. She grabs the bottle and sets it into one of the glasses, balancing it as she goes back into the living room, telling herself again that Robin won't mind before she pushes away any worrisome thoughts.

She chuckles softly when she finds Robin exactly as she left him and Regina chewing somewhat angrily at the tip of her pen, obviously in need of a break–and when she grabs a coaster, Regina doesn't look up.

Mal frowns as she sets down the beer and puts one of the glasses down beside Regina's legal pad, sinking down beside her, rolling her eyes when Regina doesn't flinch–and then, a coy little grin edges over her lips as she pulls off her cardigan, leaving her top half in a thin gray camisole, suddenly forgetting completely about the beer.

"You should take a break."

"I'm almost done," Regina murmurs, not looking up–and clearly not almost done, given the amount of pages tucked on the side of the binder opposite to her.

Grinning, she leans in, her lips fluttering over Regina's jaw as her hand presses into her thigh. "Take a break."

"Mal–"

"Come on," she murmurs, "Just a little while. I'm bored."

"You seemed–" Regina's voice halts and she giggles as Mal's lips and tongue slide down her neck, her hand traveling over the top of Regina's thigh. "This isn't fair."

"Sure it is."

"But–"

"Just a little break," she tells her. "You're so tense, you–"

"You're trying to seduce me and–"

"And it's working," Mal murmurs against her skin, looking up to see a smile stretching over Regina's lips as she nods. "See?"

Regina drops the binder down onto the coffee table and eases back against the side of the couch. Mal leans in, her lips skimming over her clavicle before she pecks her chin, then moves to her lips–and as she leans in to kiss her, Regina smiles.

Her heart flutters as Regina shifts herself, wrapping her arm around her and pushing her hand into her hair as her tongue slips between her lips, swirling around hers as she pulls her closer.

Grinning, Regina breaks the kiss, pushing her back just long enough to pull off her sweater and as she leans back in, Regina's hand slips under her camisole–then, a moment later, Regina tugs it off of her, dropping the garment down onto the floor beside them.

She smirks as she pulls back, sitting up a little straighter as she pushes back her shoulders, watching the way Regina's eyes fall to her bare breasts. She licks her lips and grins before diving in, her tongue swirling around a nipple while her hand kneads at the other breast.

Her lips are soft and her breath is warm, tickling against her skin as it begins to tingle–and from the corner of her eye, she catches a glimpse of Robin, completely unaware of the scene unfolding before him.

Mal unhooks Regina's bra, dragging it down her arms and Regina pulls back momentarily.

"This… is escalating very quickly," Regina says, laughing softly as her fingers press into Mal's hips. "I suddenly feel like we should go–"

"No, let's stay here."

"Here," she murmurs, glancing toward the open window. "You realize we're not a hundred floors up and–"

"And we have an audience who's ignoring us."

A grin pulls onto Regina's lips as she looks to Robin, eyes closed and grinning as he listens to the game, every now and them popping a pretzel into his mouth.

"Oh, I suppose we do."

"Should we give him a little show? Something he can't ignore?"

It takes a moment, but Regina nods. "It shouldn't be too hard to grab his attention."

Mal laughs softly as Regina pulls her bra off of her arms, reaching behind herself and loosening the button at the back of her skirt as she tugs at the zipper of her jeans–and momentarily, she glances at Robin, still completely unaware.

By the time she looks back, Regina's skirt is on the floor and she's stretched out on the couch wearing only a pair of soft pink underwear. She giggles, lifting herself up on her elbows as she looks to Robin, and Mal hands coast up over her knees. Regina lifts a leg over the back of the couch, opening herself up and letting out a breathy moan of anticipation as Mal's lips dot kisses up her leg–potentially giving Robin quite the view, should he ever decide to look up.

She stretches out on top of her and as their lips meet. Her tongue parts Regina's lips and her hand slips down underneath the elastic band of her underwear. When two of her fingers find Regina's clit, Regina lets out a loud, breathy moan that should have been hard to ignore.

Regina kisses her a bit harder as her fingers press harder against her clit, circling around it and making her wetter–and then, Regina's hand slips down her back, her fingers skimming along the top of her jeans before slipping inside of them and–

"Ahh–" Flinching, she pulls back as Regina's fingers press hard into a bruise that's low on her back.

And that's what grabs Robin's attention.

"I'm sorry, I–"

"It's fine," Mal insists. "There's no reason to stop. I just–" Her voice fades as Regina's brows arch and in the window, Robin peers into the living room. "It's fine."

But Regina's sitting up, her eyes are filled with curiosity and worry. Gently, she reaches out, unzipping her jeans, loosening them around her hips and when she does, the brown and purple bruise at the small of her back can't be ignored.

"Oh my god, Mal, what happened?"

Robin comes in through the window, momentarily looking confused as he looks between them, his eyes traveling over their almost naked bodies still curled up together on the couch–a scene that doesn't at all match the mood.

"It's nothing," she sighs, remembering how it hurt as Stefan shoved her back against the edge of a desk in her father's study. "Really, it's not anything to worry about."

"That's an awfully ugly bruise."

"Mal," Robin murmurs as he looks at the bruise, sitting down beside them as alarm resonates in his eyes. "When did that happen?"

"The other night," she sighs, conjuring a lie. "I was in the kitchen at home, making a cup of tea and this spider came out of nowhere. It was big and black, and it nearly touched my hand. I jumped back and hit the edge of the marble counter."

Robin's eyes shift to Regina. "You must've jumped back awfully hard."

She nods. "Yeah, not my most graceful moment," she tells him, shrugging and trying to forget how easily Stefan had been able to fling her back–how angry he was and how full of hate–and when she'd eased herself up, he'd pushed her back hard against the desk's corner another time, somehow harder than before, spewing venomous words as he blamed her for a rainstorm that canceled his night away with Rose. "I felt kind of stupid after, to be perfectly honest."

"You didn't mention–"

"Well, it's embarrassing," she says, looking to Robin–that part isn't a lie. This isembarrassing, that this is what her life is, that she has no control over it. "A little spider the size of a nickel threw me into so much of a frenzied panic that I injured myself."

"I've… done that," Regina admits. "More times than I'd like to admit."

Robin grins as he looks to her. "Regina once ripped down our shower curtain because she found some unexpected company in the shower."

Mal grins as Regina's eyes widen defensively. "That thing was nearly in my hair."

"And you screamed like it had a knife to your throat."

"As fun as this conversation is," Mal says, clearing her throat as she looks between them. "I was having much more fun before." A grin curls onto her lips as she looks between them, wanting more than ever to lose herself in them for a little while. "And now that Robin's finally taken notice–"

"How long were you two–"

"Long enough that you should have noticed," Regina tells him, grinning.

"I think I'd like to continue that instead of this, especially now both of you are paying attention to me."

Robin grins as she reaches for his belt and her heart flutters a little as Regina's lips press to her shoulder–and she decides that regardless of what they had planned for this afternoon, she's going to spend it fucking them both until she once again forgets all of them unpleasantness from the night before.

It took everything in him to leave the house that morning–and the only reason he'd mustered the ability to do so was because that afternoon, he and Belle were going to lunch and hopefully, that meant he'd catch Gold in a compromising situation.

He tried to prepare himself for the possibility that all of this was in his head and the only reason he thought something was awry was because he wanted it to be–but there was a little voice at the back of his head that told him things aligned too perfectly to be a coincidence and experience told him that voice was rarely wrong.

Drawing in a breath, he straightens his tie, giving his name to the host and following him as he leads him to a table where Belle is sitting, perched on a chair and grazing the menu.

She grins up at him as he comes to the table, her eyes shifting to the host as if she wants to be left alone, and as soon as he's out of earshot, she giggles.

"This place is ridiculous."

"Yeah."

"I mean, look at the price for shrimp cocktails."

Robin sighs as he looks to the spot on the menu that she points to and sucks in a breath. "Gold better be up to something or Roland isn't going to college."

"So, Roland draws the short stick if I get an appetizer? Why him?"

"Because Henry's the smart one and can probably get a scholarship."

Belle's eyes widen as a little laugh escapes her. "What a terrible thing to say."

"Roland has his strengths, but Henry is one hundred percent his mother's son," he tells her, his voice even as his eyes scan the restaurant. "And I don't see him."

"I saw him come in," Belle says, casually looking behind herself. "He was alone though."

"I wonder if there's a private–" His voice halts as he looks to the main entrance, watching as Leopold Perrault comes in–and immediately, he feels heat rising up the back of his neck. "Well, that can't be a coincidence."

"Is… that the brother?"

"Leopold," Robin supplies, watching as the host leads him across the restaurant an around a little bend to a more secluded area. "Damn it. I can't see him."

Sighing, he looks back at Belle, watching as she bites down on her lip. "I could always… get lost looking for the ladies room," she suggests. "They seem like the sort of men who'd believe a flighty little thing like me couldn't possibly have enough sense of direction to follow simple directions."

Robin blinks, watching as the host returns to his post. "Sounds like you're angling for a dessert all to yourself."

A grin tugs up at the corner of Belle's mouth as she plucks her napkin from her lap. "Oh, I don't mind sharing my cheesecake, but don't think for a second I'm not going to order surf and turf, so that I can eat the surf and have the turf for tomorrow's dinner."

"Well, I did just tell you that I only plan to send one of my children to college–"

"And on a scholarship, no less."

He laughs as she gets up and he watches as she wanders aimlessly through the crowded restaurant, slowly meandering to around the corner to where Leopold was seated. He holds his breath as he waits, looking down at the menu, but unable to focus on it, and then he hears Belle laugh a bit too loudly and as he looks up, he watches as Gold leads her back around the corner, pointing out the clearly marked sign that indicates the way to the ladies room.

Once more, Robin feels his jaw tighten as his eyes settle on Gold, watching the way he checks out Belle as she walks away. He looks back to the menu as a knot forms in his stomach. He's not sure exactly what he feels, but regardless of what it is, he quickly realizes he has to fake it because when he looks up from the menu, he sees Gold coming toward him.

"Locksley," he calls, "imagine running into you here."

Robin shifts. "Yes, imagine–"

"What brings you by?" Gold asks, his voice almost singing the words. "I thought you had interviews all day."

"Well, we all have to eat, right?"

"Right–"

"Lunch."

"Here?" Gold asks, arching his eyebrows. "An awfully fancy place to take yourself."

Robin's head tips to the side as his eyes narrow. "I might ask the same of you."

"A meeting," Gold is quick to say. "With an old friend."

"A friend–" Robin repeats, wanting to ask more, but not wanting to seem too eager. "I could… say the same for my own company."

"Oh–"

He chuckles softly, rubbing his hand against the back of his neck. "I, um, I think you just pointed out the restrooms for her."

"Oh," he says again, this time letting a little smile curl onto his lips. "She was a pretty little thing."

"Very much so."

"And you're here…"

Gold's voice trails off as he looks to Robin, waiting for him to fill in the details, and for a moment he hesitates. "You'll understand my asking for your discretion."

"Discretion–"

"Yes, I'm… I'm on a date, you see."

"Ah–"

He seems amused.

"My wife obviously doesn't know and–"

"And doesn't need to."

"Exactly."

"Say no more," Gold says easily as Belle emerges from the ladies' room. "You weren't here."

"Thank you."

Gold nods and turns away, once more letting his eyes linger over Belle as he passes her–and when he lets out a little grunt before walking away, Robin's eyes widen as Belle sits back down and a string of apologies fall from his lips. Belle only shrugs, dismissing Gold's poor behavior and confirming that Gold and Leopold were indeed sitting together at a little table in the back of the restaurant.

"So, if he deposits–" She stops. "Maybe we shouldn't talk about it here."

Robin nods. "That's… probably a good idea," Robin says, reaching for his water and taking a short sip. "Gold comes here rather frequently and–"

"Who knows who's listening."

"Exactly."

"Though," Belle says, leaning in as her voice drops to a near whisper. "I have to say, it's awfully sweet of you to go to such lengths for a client who's.. well… not yours, and… now that I think of it, you shouldn't be helping at all."

"Well, she's innocent."

"That's what Regina says, but–"

"Mal couldn't kill someone in cold blood. She just couldn't. It's not who she is."

"You say that with as much confidence as Regina."

"Do you doubt it?"

"No," she's quick to say. "I agree. It's just…" She sighs and shakes her head. "Never mind."

Robin's eyes narrow as Belle looks back to the menu–and he wonders what she was going to say, wondering if she'd noticed things between the three of them. They weren't overly obvious about the way they felt about Mal–at least not in front of others–but Belle is around a lot more frequently than everyone else, and she is someone both he and Regina trust.

"You… seemed like you were going say something."

"No," she says, looking up at him, her blue eyes widening. "I wasn't."

"Not anything about… Regina and Mal?"

Her mouth falls open as she stares at him. "You… you know about…"

"About them?" He nods. "Yes, and I assume you do, too."

"I… I don't… I mean…"

"It's okay," he assures her. "I feel the same way about Mal."

Belle's mouth closes and her eyes narrow, and he can see her turning it over her in her head, trying to connect the dots and certain she's connecting them wrong. "I… what?"

"Mal is our girlfriend–or she was, it's complicated now–but…"

"Complicated now?"

He chuckles softly. "At least that's what she keeps telling us."

Belle blinks. "So, when you say our…"

"Regina and I are in relationship with Mal… sort of."

"Sort of…"

"Well, we were, and then she left–"

"And now she's back."

"Yes."

"Oh." Chewing at her lip, her eyes again narrow. "Oh…" And then a little laugh bubbles out of her. "Well, that's… that's better than… than what I thought… or… I think it is."

"What did you think was going on?"

"I thought Regina was having an affair."

"No," he says, shaking his head. "It's not an affair."

"Right. Of course not."

"It's–"

"Complicated?"

He grins, offering a little laugh as he thinks of how natural it feels to be with both Regina and Mal, how easily they fell into old routines, how perfectly they all seem to fit together. "It's… really not," he tells her easily. "The feelings aren't complicated, at all." He shrugs. "We love her."

"You love her," she repeats, a small smile tugging up at the corner of her mouth. "Well, I can't say that I fully understand how that's possible, but… it is a relief."

"Is it?"

"I hated thinking that Regina was being unfaithful," she admits. "It seemed so… out of character for her. You two have always seemed like such a perfect couple and–"

"Well, we're far from perfect, but–"

"I'm serious. You two are good together."

He nods. "The three of us are pretty good together, too."

Belle nods, chewing at her lip as her eyes narrow. "Can I, um… can I ask questions?" She asks, her voice a bit shy. "You can veto anything you don't want to answer."

"Okay," he replies, reaching for his water and keeping an eye on the corner of the restaurant he can't quite see. "Shoot."

"How did it start? I mean… how does one… find themselves in such a relationship?"

He laughs a little. "This isn't quite an answer, but… it just sort of… happened." He shrugs, feeling his shoulders relax. "Regina and I were at a party. It was our first year of law school and we'd survived our first round of midterms and… I was talking to some of the other guys from our cohort, and I looked up and Regina was talking to this gorgeous girl… flirting actually…"

"And you already knew that she's…um…"

"Bisexual?" He supplies, nodding easily. "Yes. I knew that."

"And you weren't jealous?"

"No," he admits. "I'd always felt a little guilty that I came along when I did. Regina never got to… explore that part of herself, a part of herself she'd only just discovered, and that seemed… unfair somehow."

Nodding, Belle's eyebrows shrug as she scoffs. "It's… not that easy to… explore."

"I know, and that's why it seemed unfair to take away her chance to flirt with a pretty girl who seemed interested in her." He grins, remembering the way Regina blushed and laughed as she and Mal sat together in a little corner, completely caught up in one another–and he remembers how her smile faded when she caught his gaze, like she'd been caught doing something wrong. "And then when I went over to say hello–really I just wanted to top off their drinks–I felt a spark."

"A spark," Belle repeats. "Between them–"

He shakes his head. "Between us, between me and Mal."

"Ah–"

"We had dinner with her the next night, and it just… clicked."

"So, that's when… well… is that…" Her cheeks flush. "Sorry. I just… I don't want to say the wrong thing."

"Don't worry about that," he tells her, reaching across the table and giving her hand a quick squeeze. "This is nice… being about to talk about this, about her, and not have to lie or diminish what she meant to us then."

"Or what she means to you now." 

"Exactly."

"Okay," Belle says, again chewing at her bottom lip. "Remember you can veto anything you don't want to answer."

"Okay–"

"Is that when you and Regina first, um…let things get romantic?"

He laughs. "If you're asking if we slept with her that night, the answer is no. That took some time."

"Oh?"

"It… I wasn't sure if Mal was… interested in something like that, and I didn't want to lose her friendship."

"And what about Regina?"

"This was all new territory for her. She'd never acted on her feelings for another woman, so–"

"So, the idea took some time to warm up to."

"Yes."

"Whose idea was it to, um… act on those feelings?"

"Mine," he admits. "I wasn't sure what that would look like, actually. I wasn't sure she'd want both of us or–"

"Just Regina?"

He nods, "Maybe."

"And… you'd have been okay with that?"

For a moment, he considers it. "I… I don't know. I think so, now, looking back. It's hard to remember what it felt like to be unsure of how the three of us would work. We're all just… so tangled up in one another."

"So, it's not… cheating if…"

"If it's Mal, it's not cheating."

"And if it weren't Mal?"

"It would depend," he tells her, pushing away thoughts of those months immediately after Mal left and how lost they'd been, how eager they'd been to fill the void she left, and how misguided their attempts were. "If we had permission, then no."

"If not?"

"Then, it would be."

"And you–"

"No," he cuts in, shaking his head. "Neither of us ever cheated."

For a moment, she heistates, her eyes narrowing as she stares at them. "Have there… been others?"

"Not like Mal."

"No," she murmurs. "I can't imagine there would be anyone quite like that."

He grins. "The three of us just…"

"Fit."

"Yes."

Again, Belle's cheeks flush. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be asking all these invasive questions."

"You gave me the veto option."

"I know, but–"

"It's nice," he tells her, his voice sincere. "I don't… get to do this very often. I don't get to talk about this part of my life with other people. Regina and I can talk about it, and I can talk about it with Mal, but outside of us… it's… it's a secret. No one knows."

"I imagine that's difficult," Belle says, as that memory of John walking in on the three of them flickers in his memory, and he pushes away his guilty feelings–guilt over letting John's shock and disgust win, guilt over not admitting the truth, guilt at calling Mal an experiment–and he draws in a breath, reminding himself that they all have a second chance, a chance not to make the same mistakes. "I… I know it's not quite the same, but I… I do understand what that's like."

He nods as a smile pulls onto his lips. "I know."

"Y-you do?"

Again, he nods as a memory flickers–one much more pleasant than the last that conjured–and he recalls a rather giggly conversation Belle and Regina had after seeing How to Marry a Millionaire. "I realize this is more of Regina's territory, but, um… yes, I know."

"Ah–"

"Can I ask you an invasive question if I give you the right to veto it?"

"Sure."

"Is there anyone you're seeing?"

She shakes her head. "No," she admits, offering a sad little smile. "Like you said, it's not so easy to find, so when you do it… it's worth exploring."

He grins a little and nods, and before he can say anymore a waiter comes to their table to take their order. Just as Belle promised, she gets the surf and turf–which he notes is the most expensive thing on the menu–and he orders the salmon and a bottle of wine. And as the waiter departs, Gold rounds the corner, smoothing his hand over the exterior of the breast pocket of his jacket–and though it hardly means anything at all, Robin can't help but note that when he exits the restaurant, he doesn't turn in the direction of their office, but instead the opposite way, which just so happens to be in the direction of the the bank.

Regina stretches out her arms and yawns, pressing her eyes closed and forcing herself to look away from her notes. She and Robin have been studying for hours, taking breaks only to eat–and all the while Mal has been curled up in the window seat with a book that she'd gotten earlier that day at an estate sale in her lap.

It was frustrating to compare the progress she'd made reading through documents of old contracts and comparing her own notes to the progress Mal made in her book–and she was fairly confident that if quizzed on the content of what they'd read that day, Mal's score would be far higher than her own.

"I need a break," she declares, looking from Mal to Robin seated opposite her on the couch. "A real break."

"I'm stunned," he teases. "You never take breaks. You say they aren't allowed."

Her eyes roll and her arms cross over her chest. "That's only because your idea of a break takes four hours."

Looking up, Mal giggles. "You've been over there for hours. You deserve a break–both of you do." Robin offers a satisfied grin–and again., Mal giggles and dog ears the page in her book. "So, what do you want to do?"

"I don't know–something that has nothing to do with court cases or testimonies or any of the things I've been reading about all day."

"Are you hungry?" Robin asks, "We could go downstairs and get something."

She considers for a moment, and then feels a grin tug up at her lips. "Onion rings."

"That sounds fantastic," Robin says, leaning forward and pecking her lips. "Do you want anything?"

"Onion rings sound incredible, actually."

"Perfect–two orders of onion rings and one order of tater-tots comin' up."

Regina laughs as Robin rolls off the couch. "You know I'm stealing some of your tots right?"

He blinks and looks to Mal as her nose scrunches up and she nods. "Alright, make that two orders of onion rings and two orders of tater-tots."

Again, Robin leans in and kisses her before reaching for his wallet on the table–and a moment later, he's out the door. Regina stretching her legs out and yawning as she gathers up her notes and piles them up on the coffee table.

"What are you reading over there, anyway?"

"The Book of Hoyle."

Regina's brow arched. "So, like… card games?"

"Yeah," Mal replies, nodding as she hugs the book to her chest. "This particular copy was published in 1864, and was the first edition to include poker, and it has the cutest little drawings in them." Regina's brow arches. "They're hand-drawn."

"You look like you're about to makeout with that thing."

A sly little grin twists onto Mal's lips. "I'd rather makeout with you."

Regina's brow arches. "What's stopping you?" she asks, "And it's in your best interest to get over here before I've had those onion rings."

A triumphant little grin edges onto her lips as Mal gets up, bringing her book with her. She laughs a little as she drops it down next to Regina's notes. Placing a knee on the couch she falls forward, laughing as Regina catches her. Regina feels a little shiver run down her spine as Mal's hand slips up over her cheeks and momentarily, her breath catches as Mal's tongue traces her lip. Her arms come up around her and she tips up her chin, catching Mal's bottom lip between her.

She kisses her until she's dizzy and breathless, and finally Mal pulls back, sitting up and offering a soft giggle–and just as she leans in, her stomach rumbles.

"You really are hungry."

"I barely ate lunch. You only ate the pickle."

Mal nods. "I told you to eat."

"I was… preoccupied."

"I know," Mal says, reaching out and running two fingers up and down her forearm. "But you've barely eaten today, and those tuna melt sandwiches were amazing." Regina's eyes roll–it certainly smelled incredible, and Robin seemed all too eager to finish her untouched sandwich. "My secret is that I put little chunks of cheese directly into the tuna, not just on the top."

"I… would have never thought of that."

"I know. Granny does that with her cheese burgers and–"

"That's why they're so cheesy."

Mal nods. "She rolls onion into the hamburger, too."

Regina blinks. "I've been eating those burgers for years now and I never realized that."

"Well, how often do you pick apart your food and analyze it?"

"That's fair," Regina admits, grinning as Mal leans back in.

Mal's tongue parts her lips, then swirls around hers as her hand slides down the back of Regina's skirt, rubbing gently over her ass. Regina kisses her back, slowly pushing her down against the couch so that she's on top. Her hands tug Mal's sweater free from her skirt and she ignores the rumbling of her stomach as her hand slips against Mal's skin, coasting up her torso until her fingertips reach the thin lace of her bra.

And then the door opens, and immediately, she's distracted.

She sits up and watches as Robin comes in, momentarily halting as he notices what they've been up to–and her attention shifts from Mal to the long-awaited snack. Mal frowns with disappointment, but when Robin tears open the parchment bag of onion rings, the smell of them waft through the air, and a low moan escapes her as she slides down onto the floor.

Robin tears open the other bags as Regina sinks down onto the floor in front of the coffee table and curls her legs underneath herself.

"Are these new?" Robin asks, reaching for a deck of cards and he sits down between them.

"Mm, yeah," Mal murmurs as she bites into one of the onion rings. "I picked them up today after I found that book at the estate sale."

"Wanna play?" Robin asks, looking between them. "Unless, you just want to eat and then go back to–"

"No," Regina cuts in. "I am done for the night. If I read any longer, I'm going to give myself a migraine."

"Poker?" Mal suggests, shrugging. "Do you both know how to play?"

Robin nods and Regina bites down on her lip–and before she can even admit to not knowing, Mal explains the rules. She listens and nods along, and finds herself thinking that this should be easy–it's a game of luck, mostly, and when she wants to, she can be quite good at keeping a straight face, and not giving her thoughts or feelings away.

"How about we make this a bit more interesting," Mal says, as Robin deals the cards. "We could play strip poker instead."

"Strip poker–"

"Mmhmm," she nods. "The person with the worst hand removes an article of clothing."

"That… could be fun," Robin says, grinning as he looks between them. "I'm in."

"Something tells me that wasn't in your antique copy of the Book of Hoyle."

"No, but old things are always made better with a fresh, new twist."

Regina laughs and nods in agreement–and by the end of the second round, Mal's skirt and sweater are on the couch.

She wearing a pastel peach colored lace bra and matching satin underwear with a little bit of lace detailing at the top, and Regina watches as she accepts her cards, chewing at her bottom lip as she examines them. At first, she thought Mal was intentionally trying to lose, but now, as she watches her pluck a tater tot up from the pile at the center of the table, she's not so sure because both she and Robin are more than a little distracted.

Mal has to remind them to look at the cards, reminding them to draw from the stack.

Regina loses that hand and she removes her cardigan, then Robin loses the next two and each time removes a sock–and then, Mal loses again,and all they can do is stare as she reaches behind herself and unhooks her bra.

"So, um… how do we, uh, determine a winner?" Robin asks, painstakingly trying to look her in the eye.

"Well," Mal says, looking between them as if she weren't sitting there, half naked. "Typically, the winner would be the one who wins the most, or in our case, the one who has the most clothes on at the end." Then her brow furrows and she pouts a little. "But that seems like an awfully sad way to win."

Regina's brow arches as she looks between them, taking a breath as she reaches for an onion ring. "I take it you have a better idea?"

"Of course I do," she says, grinning. "The winner will be decided when two of us are completely naked, and the winner gets to decide what he or she wants as the prize."

"What he or she wants," Regina repeats. "As in…"

"Well, I'm thinking of something sexual, but I suppose it doesn't have to be." Robin's eyes widen a bit as his head tips to the side, and Regina laughs as she shakes her head. "What? It's your fault," she tells her. "You're the one who got me all hot and bothered, then abandoned me for some onion rings."

Regina blinks as Robin's eyes shift to her. They both easily agree to the new rule, and as Robin deals the cards, Regina finds herself distracted by all of the dirty things she could have them to do–and it comes as no surprise to her that she loses that last hand.

What is a surprise, though, is that Mal doesn't lose another.

Regina laughs softly as she watches Robin tugs down his boxers and tosses them onto the couch, his cock springing free. Both she and Mal look to it. For more than an hour now, she's felt her own arousal building–and it takes everything in her not to lean over and take him in her mouth. Biting down on her lip, she thinks of her lips slipping down the length of him, making him moan as his hand tangles in her hair–and then, she draws in a breath, and reminds herself that she doesn't get to decide. She didn't win, so it doesn't matter what she wants to do.

Her frustration doesn't last long–or rather, it shifts as Mal stands up and shimmies out of her peach satin panties. Her legs are smooth and she's looking at them with the sly sort of grin she gets when she's up to something, and Regina can almost see her considering what comes next.

And then, she watches her eyes flicker with excitement, and though she hasn't said anything, she knows she's decided.

"You said you were hungry," Mal says, stifling a giggle as she looks between them, taking them each by the hand. "And so what I want you to do is eat me… together."

"Together."

"Yes," she nods. "You're both so skilled with your tongues. I want them together." Regina's eyes slide to Robin, and his brow arches as a little grin tugs onto his lips. "I'm sure you'll figure out how to manage it."

She gives their hands a little tug as she leads them back to the bedroom–and as they follow, she once more, feels her arousal building as she thinks about her tongue slipping against Mal's slick skin as she licks her, tangling with Robin's as his tongue works at Mal's clit, and somehow it seems that she's won.

When they reach the bedroom, Mal turns, keeping her eyes on her as she reaches for Robin, leaving Regina to watch as her arm links around his neck and shoulder and her fingers push into his hair. Mal's tongue slips into his mouth and Regina feels herself growing wetter as she watches them trade open-mouthed kiss.

Swallowing hard, she moves toward them, her hand sliding over Robin's hip as she kisses Mal's shoulder and her breath catches in her chest as Mal breaks her kiss with Robin to kiss her. Her lips are warm and wet, and Robin offers a husky moan as his tongue flicks at Mal's earlobe.

Mal breaks the kiss and takes a step back, grinning at them as she eases herself onto the bed, propping herself up by her elbows. She smiles–and somehow, it's both adorable and seductive. She lays down beside her, her lips finding hers. Robin crouches down at the edge of the bed. Mal draws up her knees as she breaks the kiss, for a moment, all she can do is stare at them, watching as Robin dots kisses along Mal's inner thighs as he teases her.

She offers them a frustrated sigh as Robin leans up and kisses her stomach and she wriggles impatiently as Regina once again finds her lips.

Regina smiles into the kiss as Mal's breath catches at that first swipe of Robin's tongue. Regina's hand slips down Mal's abdomen, and Robin's hair tickles the tips of her fingers.

They stay like that for a while and she loves the breathy little moans that Mal murmurs into her mouth as Robin pleasures her–but that isn't what she wants, and she knows it.

"You, too," she says, looking at Regina through hooded eyes. "I want both of you."

"Mmhmm…" Regina murmurs, her mouth continues to suck at her warm, flushed skin.

She pulls back, grinning to herself as she lets her lips glide over Mal's jaw and then to her throat–knowing that she's teasing her, knowing that her frustration is only mounting and knowing how much better that first touch to her aching clit will be because of it.

Slowly, she readjusts herself on the bed so that she's at a better angle and has more access to her. Her lips trail down over Mal's torso and for a moment, she lets her tongue linger on one of her nipples–swirling around it and nipping gently–as she once more shifts herself. Her lips travel lower, coasting down over torso, again teasing her as she wriggles impatiently and writhes as Robin's tongue laps at her.

Eventually, she's positioned in the opposite direction as Mal, her head resting on her thigh. Robin looks up, grinning as their eyes meet, and he lifts his head momentarily away from Mal as her lips seek his.

She can taste Mal on his lips–tangy and salty, a little bit musky–as she pulls back, her tongue swipes along his bottom lip. He pecks her lips one last, hasty time before returning his attention to Mal–and that's where her focus shifts as well.

Regina's tongue stiffens as she leans in, swirling it around her clit a few times before relaxing it and letting it glide over her and her lips close around it, sucking hard.

That elicits a little moan from Mal, and then a little squeak as Robin dips two fingers into her—and he gives Regina a mischievous little grin as he does it.

Her tongue continues to work at Mal's clit—her breath catching with surprise as Mal's hand slips over ass, rubbing absently, and making her wetter and wetter until a finger slips inside of her.

She's focused on that for a while, enjoying feeling Mal's orgasm building–enjoying that her breath was getting shorter and more ragged, that her moans were getting louder as her fingers stop slipping in and out of her, staying inside and curling up and releasing only to curl up again, hitting on that spot that always feels so damn good. And then, Robin's nose bumps against hers. Her eyes shift to him as her tongue swirls around Mal's clit and she watches as he grins coyly, tipping his head and leaning in–and to her surprise his tongue twists around hers. He leans in the rest of the way, taking her lips in his and kissing her. The kiss is wet and loose, their tongues slipping and sliding against each others as they roll Mal's clit between them.

Reigna's vaguely aware that Mal has lifted her head and she can feel her hips moving a bit more erratically, involuntarily, as she squirms beneath their touches.

"Oh fuck," she breathes out, watching them. "That's… oh." Mal's head falls back and her back arches up, her flingers slipping out of Regina and grabbing hold of the sheet. "Oh my god…"

Robin shifts downward, his fingers twisting inside of her, fucking her slowly as Regina returns her attention solely to her clit, and solely to pushing her over the edge–and then, it happens. He body writhes and her legs shudders as she explodes, her orgasm over taking her as her fingers tighten around the sheet. Regina loves this part–watching her as she comes, and Robin seems all the more encouraged to continue as she squirms beneath their mouths.

Finally, she collapses–content and spent–and a smile draws onto her lips as Regina sits up. A little giggle escapes her as she reaches up, slipping her fingers over the back of Regina's neck and drawing her in for a kiss–and this time is softer and sweeter.

Regina feels Robin's weight shift onto the bed as he settles himself on the other side of Mal, his lips quickly finding the crook of her neck.

"That was nice," Mal murmurs against her mouth. "I'm so glad I won."

"I feel like we all won," Regina says, giggling.

"There's one more thing I want," Mal says, "Since I won and all"

"Oh?" Robin murmurs–his breath tickling Mal's skin and making her laugh. "What's that?"

"I want to watch the two of you."

"Just the two of us?"

"Mmhmm," she nods. "You were so good to me, now I want to watch you be good to each other."

Robin lifts his head, a sly little smirk edging onto his lips as he reaches across Mal and trails two fingers along Regina's arm–and once again, Regina finds herself feeling very much like she is the winner.

Regina smiles as Robin comes in–and she can't help but giggle as she hands him a drink. His brow arches as he looks to her, and again a little giggle escapes her as she presses a kiss to his cheek. This isn't the sort of greeting he's used to, but the sort of greeting some of their friends occasionally describe–and the sort of greeting she normally rolls her eyes at.

"This is… awfully domestic."

She nods. "I'm in charge of martinis."

"Ah–"

"Mal was a little bored, and she was flipping through some magazine she'd picked up and–" She shakes her head. "It seems we are having a themed dinner."

A smile pulls onto his lips. "That sounds fun."

"She thought so."

"And what about you?"

"I… enjoy that I don't have to cook, that I can just sit back and drink, and… I like that this makes her happy," she tells him, shrugging her shoulders. "You, too."

"So… where is Mal?"

"On the patio. Barbecuing."

Robin's eyes widen. "Does that thing still work?"

"Apparently so," Regina tells him, laughing softly. "Something about a switch needing to be replace. I… I wasn't really listening as she explained."

"And she fixed it?"

Regina nods. "Something else she picked up in a magazine."

Robin's eyes narrow as he takes a sip of his martini. "This is… incredible," he says, looking down at the glass. "What–"

"A peach tea martini."

"Something else from a magazine?"

She nods. "We walked to the library."

"Ah–"

"Apparently, Roland borrowed a stack of books back in April that never got returned, and they called to inquire about it." She rolls her eyes and sighs "An hour later, I discovered them strategically placed between his bed and the wall."

"Our son is a thief."

"Yeah, and I wonder where he gets that?" Robin shrugs innocently. "Anyway, we made a day of it and now she's outback, grilling pineapple."

"Grilling pineapple."

"Apparently that can be done," she says, shrugging her shoulders. "I was kicked out when I offered to make a jello mold for desert."

At that, Robin laughs. "So, you made me a drink instead."

"Well, I poured it."

"It counts," he tells her, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "What else did you two get up to?"

"We spent hours at the library and then what seemed like hours at the market," she tells him. "I got a novel to read and Mal… read everything she could get her hands on." She laughs softly, remembering their trips to the library when she and Robin were in law school, and how they'd always somehow lose Mal whenever she tagged along. They'd find her in a corner surrounded by the most eclectic stack of books, completely enthralled, regardless of what she was reading. "Then, we went to the market and she taught me how to pick out honeydew and cantaloupe."

A grin pulls onto Robin's face. "You tried to put them in the jello, didn't you?"

Bristling her eyes widen. "What else do you do with squares of fruit?"

Robin laughs out, hooking his arm around her shoulders and pulling her into his side, pressing a kiss to her hair. "I love you, you know that, right?"

"I do," she sighs. "And I love that you love me in spite of my lack of domesticity."

"You make up for it in other ways."

"Oh," she murmurs, pulling away as she moves into the living room. "I got a letter from my dad."

"Oh–"

"And guess where he spent the weekend?"

"Dancing on your mother's grave?"

She laughs as she shakes her head. "He went up to see Henry and Roland."

She watches as Robin brightens, coming into the room. "Are there pictures?"

"Of course, and I'm fairly certain Henry has grown a half foot." Regina sits down on the ottoman and Robin sits in the chair in front of her, her heart warming as she hands him the pictures. "He says Roland has taken to archery."

"That's my boy," Robin beams–his breath catching as he turns a picture of their sons standing on a dock at the lake with their arms around each other's shoulders, smiling brightly. "We should frame this one."

"One step ahead of you. I already bought a frame for it."

Grinning up at her, Robin laughs. "And this was an example of how you make up for your lack of domesticity."

Rolling her eyes, she draws in a breath, wishing they could keep this conversation going, but knowing that they can't. All day, her stomach as been in knots, and she's still not sure if she hopes the District Attorney is conspiring against Mal, or if she hopes that he isn't. "So, how was your date?"

"It wasn't a date."

"I know, but I like calling it that," she admits as her bottom lip catches between her teeth, watching as Robin takes a long sip of his drink. "I've been… wondering about it all day."

"Belle was fantastic company," he tells her. "And helped me to confirm that Gold's lunch appointment was, indeed, with Leopold Perrault."

"Oh–"

"I couldn't see much or hear anything, but they weren't there long and when Gold left, he turned in the direction of the bank."

"That… doesn't mean…."

"I know," he's quick to say. "But if he made a deposit afterward, like he has all of the other times–"

"Then it doesn't seem like such a coincidence."

"No, it doesn't."

"So, we just… wait and see."

He nods–and then, his eyes narrow curiously. "Something… um… something else happened at lunch."

Regina's brows arch and her head tips to the side. "Something else? With Gold?"

"Oh, well, yes, but… nothing significant."

"What?"

"He spotted me."

Her stomach flops. "Robin–"

"He seemed amused to find that I was having an affair," he tells her, her eyes almost instinctively rolling. "It was… almost like this odd bonding moment."

"You're one of them now," she tells him, bristling, even though she knows it's not true. "You're one of those smarmy men who carries on secret affairs with women younger than their wives, who–"

"Regina–"

"I'll stop."

"Before you get your blood pressure up over nothing."

She sighs and nods. "So, that… wasn't the thing you were going to tell me."

"No," he says slowly, his eyes narrowing as he watches her take it in. "I, um… I told Belle about you and me… and Mal. I told her about our relationship with her."

"Oh," she breathes out, her eyes widening a bit as she turns it around in her head, processing what it means for someone outside of the three of them to know the exact nature of their relationship. "You told her."

"Yes."

"Okay," she murmurs, still considering what it means for that secret to be out, trying to decide if she cares. "So, Belle knows…"

"I realize I probably shouldn't have said anything without–"

"No," she cuts in as her eyes cast up to meet his. "You have every right to tell her."

"Do I?"

She nods. "You're a part of the relationship, too," she says, shrugging her shoulders. "When you and I first started dating, you didn't need my permission to tell your friends, and I didn't need your permission to tell mine. It was… ours to tell. This isn't different."

"Isn't it?"

She shakes her head. "No," she tells him, as a soft smile pulls out her lips. "It… makes it feel… normal, sort of, you know? It's… natural to talk about, to want to talk about it and–" She stops, remembering the last time someone found out about their relationship with Mal. "How did she take it?"

"Well, I think."

"Yeah?" She asks, somewhat rhetorically as her stomach flutters–the more she considers it the more she likes that it's out, that she doesn't have to be so careful to hide her feelings or worry about if things might appear too real.

Robin nods. "She was mostly curious," he tells her. "She didn't say anything unkind, and… she's sort of picked up on it."

"What?"

"She was worried you were having an affair, so I think it came as a bit of a relief."

Regina feels a soft laugh bubbling up from her chest. "She is… attached to us."

"If we ever broke up–"

"That's not happening."

"I said if," he reminds her, laughing softly. "I think she'd be about as devastated as the boys."

"When you left the firm she was… beside herself."

"I know," he admits, shaking his head. "And can we not… talk about that? The wound is still fresh."

"The wound…"

"Yes, my wounded pride."

"Ah–"

"I was wrong. This move wasn't for me–"

"But a move was."

He nods, "I think so."

"Well, on the bright side, you now know what you don't want to do."

"That's… not really helpful."

Grinning, she nods feeling much more at ease about the situation than she did at the start of summer. He hadn't expressed it well, but neither had she and it'd been hard not to take his departure personally, hard not to let it create a rift between them. "Well," she murmurs, drawing in a breath as she shifts the subject. "Perhaps now Mal won't be so jumpy when Belle's around. She always gets so tense whenever we go in–"

"Well, it's hard on her."

"I know."

"And, as always, she has the most to lose."

Swallowing hard, her eyes cast down as her thoughts shift back to Gold, and she wonders if Leopold's pull goes beyond him, if Gold is merely just one player in the larger scheme. After all, with his brother gone, Leopold is now the sole heir to his father's fortune–and the thing standing in his way or inheriting the whole empire which he surely feels entitled to, is Mal and her aging father.

Of course, what neither he nor Stefan nor her father ever really understood was that Mal didn't care about their money. She didn't care about the luxury hotels or the business behind it. She didn't care about getting her share of it. Had any of them tried, they likely could have easily worked out a deal; but of course, none of them had and none of them ever listened to her or cared to find out what she wanted.

"I'm pretty sure I can get into Gold's office again," Robin says, snapping her back into the present moment. "Now that I know where everything is, I can probably get in while he's at lunch."

"What about his secretary?"

Robin grins. "She's easily bribed with food."

"Ah–"

"A gift certificate to a nice restaurant should do the trick."

Regina feels her stomach flop. "And when you get in?"

"I'll have a look around."

"Are you… planning on stealing his planner and bank statements, because–"

"He'll notice."

"Yes."

"Any other ideas?"

"Pictures?"

"Camera equipment is bulky. It'd look suspicious if I hauled it in in the morning or hauled it up from the car as soon as Gold left."

"Right," she murmurs, fumbling nervously with her fingers. "And we can't be sure he won't wait to deposit the money, or at least wait to file the slip." She looks up at him, her stomach aching and her heart beating wildly. "It's a pretty big risk to take twice."

"The timing has to be right–"

"Yes," she agrees. "And we need to know what we're going to do with the information when we get it." Drawing in a breath, Regina looks back at him. "What about Judge Hopper?"

"Archie?" He asks, his brow arching. "That professor who had a thing for you?"

"He didn't have a thing for me."

"He liked you."

"I was just the best student in the class and–"

"You were always the best student in the class."

"Well, that's true," she agrees, grinning. "Regardless of why, he did like me."

"A lot."

"Maybe he can help though. He's on the state's Bar Association board, and–"

"He's respected."

"Yes," she nods. "His opinion matters."

"Well, I suppose we could reach–"

"Dinner is ready," Mal announces in a burst as she comes into the room, her blue eyes widening as she looks between them and her smile fading. "This looks serious."

"Oh–"

"No–"

"Is it… about me? About…"

"Everything's fine," Robin assures her. "We were just…" He picks up the pictures and holds them up, showing her the sweet picture of Roland and Henry on the dock. "We were just missing them."

"No," Mal murmurs. "You weren't. You both get a certain look when you talk about your children and you don't look that way now."

"Mal, everything is just fine," Regina says, doing her best to muster a smile. "I promise."

She hesitates, looking between them. "Except that it's not. I'm… I'm going on trial for murder and–"

"Maybe," Regina cuts in, shrugging. "Maybe you are."

Glancing over at Robin, she watches a slow grin tug up at the corner of his mouth. "Things have… possibly taken a turn. We were just discussing how to proceed."

"Do I… get to know what that means?"

"Not yet."

"Ah–"

"But," Regina cuts in, laughing as she rises up from the chair, "You managed to talk about your situation without making an ill-advised confession, and that is worth celebrating."

Mal chews at her lip, fumbling with her hands and looking anything but convinced, but when Regina goes to her and pulls her close, she can't help but smile–and when Regina pecks at her lips and tells her that she loves her, her tension and worry begin to quickly fade away. Robin joins them, slides a hand to each of their backs as he looks between them, reminding her that their dinner is waiting and he can't wait to try whatever it is she made–and Regina feels her own discomfort slipping away as Robin takes them by the hand and leads them to the patio to enjoy their dinner.

Mal spots them as they come into the house, waving as a smile edges onto her lips and she excuses herself from a conversation she was having with Graham. A wave of relief washes over her as she sips her drink, trying not to seem too eager to get to them as she makes her way through the room.

"I thought you might not make it."

"I know–"

"You were supposed to be here an hour ago," she says, loudly so that they can hear her over Tommy Dorsery singing about how he'll never smile again on a crackly–and clearly loved–record. "I thought you were standing me up."

"My mother called," Regina sighs, rolling her eyes. "And after, I needed a drink–"

"Or four," Robin teases. "To work off her rage."

"She wants me to come home."

"Home–"

"Yes–"

"But–" Mal grimaces. She feels like she's screaming, so taking a look around, she reaches for their hands and drags them up the stairs. She giggles softly as she looks back at them, nodding to Victor Whale, one of the men in their cohort pressed up against a wall as a co-ed undergrad wraps herself around him. "It'll be quieter in here," she tells them, not sure that they can hear her as she reaches for the knob on Jefferson's door. "Come on."

"You don't think–"

"He won't mind at all," she supplies, closing the door and flicking on the light. "Jefferson had his sights set on Alice–"

"Alice, isn't that–"

"One of your professors' daughters whose thinking about transferring?" She nods. "He's hoping to give her a reason."

Robin's eyes roll and Regina's nose scrunches–and she can't help but smile as she

"Well, if he's… trying to give her a reason to stay, wouldn't that mean he'd be trying to bring her up here?"

"No," she says easily, shaking her head. "He's going to ask her on a walk. I imagine that'll take some time."

"Ah–"

Mal shrugs, uninterested in continuing the conversation about Jefferson. "So, what happened, Regina?" she asks, flopping back on the bed. "Your mom wants you to come home?"

Regina nods. "She said if I'm just going to be a secretary–"

"Which is ridiculous," Robin adds.

"Then I should just come home and stop pretending."

"Pretending–"

"That's apparently what law school is–me pretending to be someone important." Her eyes roll, but it's clear she isn't just brushing this off. "My dad told her about the research I'm doing with Professor Hopper and–"

"He told her?"

"He thought she'd be proud of me."

Mal frowns. "Well, I am–if that counts for anything."

"Me, too," Robin says, wrapping his arm around Regina's waist and pulling her into his side. "Always."

Regina nods, her eyes shifting to meet his before she looks back at Mal. "It's just–" she sighs. "Everyone thinks I got the research job because Professor Hopper likes me."

"Well, he does like you," Robin says. "He–"

"But no one considered that maybe he likes me because I'm good at research, that I'm thorough and dedicated… and that I don't have to be sleeping with the professor to get opportunities."

Mal's eyes widen and her chest tightens. "Did… did you mother say that?"

"No," Regina admits. "Just… everyone else… Jefferson and Graham, Victor and that ridiculous Irish kid who wears mascara."

"That's why she didn't want to come."

Regina offers a lopsided little grin. "I wanted Robin to go, so I could stay in and drink al–"

"No," Mal cuts in, pushing herself up from the bed. "I'm glad you came." Her eyes narrow as she goes to them, taking Regina by the hands. "So, Jefferson said you fucked your professor to get the chance to do research for one of his cases?" Regina nods and her lips part

"Well, fuck him," Mal says, looking between them as a coy little grin edges onto her lips as an idea sparks. "I mean, if he's so convinced that your sex life is getting in his way, let it."

"What?"

Robin laughs and his eyes narrow curiously. "Are you suggesting–"

"That we lock the door, steal the bottle of wine he told me he set aside in his closet for him and Alice, and use the condoms he has in his nightstand to cockblock him–absolutely."

"I don't think–"

"The door will be locked," Robin says, rubbing his hand at Regina's hip. "And you do need to… let off some steam."

Frowning, Regina looks between them–and then, a little smile starts to work its way onto her lips. "We could go home and–"

"No," Mal cuts in. "This is better. This… well, I don't know that it teaches him a lesson, but it certainly inconveniences him." She shrugs. "I know his little plan and he won't be bringing her back here until the party's pretty much over, when–"

"When everyone else will already have gone to their rooms."

Regina's brow arches. "Suppose he comes up through the fire escape."

"We'll draw the shade–"

"And the window has a lock," Robin finishes, his voice piquing with excitement, clearly enjoying the idea of this.  
And nothing looks as desperate as making a girl climb up a fire escape so you can break into your own room in an attempt to have sex with her." He shrugs. "Alice will probably just go home–"

"Leaving Jefferson all alone for the night to sleep on a lumpy couch likely soaked with spilled beer."

Regina still looks skeptical. "So, we're just… going to… camp out here?"

"No," Mal says easily. "Once we've had our fun, we'll leave through the fire escape, making him think he locked himself out."

Robin grins. "This sounds like an excellent plan to me."

"Come on, Regina–"

"I don't know. I just.." Mal squeezes her hands, pulling her in a little, her eyes fixed on hers. "I'm not really… in the sexy times mood."

"Well," Mal breathes out, her brow arching as she looks to Robin. "That's why you have us."

She tugs her closer, pulling Regina up against her chest. Robin moves in behind her, his hands holding onto Regina's hips as he leans in, trailing fluttery kisses along her neck. For a moment, she just watches them, letting her hands wander as Regina's head tips to the side, giving him more access to her.

Reaching around her she unclasps her skirt and Regina doesn't flinch as it slips it off of her, letting it pool at her feet. Robin's hands slide over her stomach, pushing up her sweater as Mal steps in, her lips pressing to Regina's. She nips teasingly at her lips, giggling softly as Regina tries to catch them before skimming her tongue against Regina's bottom lip and pulling her in for a kiss. Robin's hands continue to move, rubbing against each of them as he settles on a spot just beneath Regina's earlobe–a spot they both know she enjoys.

Mal's hand pushes into her underwear, cupping her as her hand rubs roughly. She smiles into the kiss as Regina's legs part and she feels Robin's hand slip beneath Regina's sweater.

Regina lets out a breathy little moan–either the result of her fingers dragging against her, feeling how wet she's become, or Robin's fingers kneading at her breast. Her breath catches as she reaches down, pulling off her sweater and breaking their contact with her–and Mal feels a satisfied grin work its way onto her lips whens he sees how flushed Regina is.

"Is the door locked?"

Robin nods, moving toward the door, twisting the lock as he grins. "It is now."

"And the–"

"Window," he's quick to say. "Got it."

"Seems like someone's come around to this idea," Mal says, arching her brow around Regina. "So, tell us where you want us."

Regina considers it for a moment, almost shyly. "How long do we have?"

"Long enough."

"Right–" she murmurs, reaching around herself and unclasping her bra, letting it fall down her arms so that she's standing there in only her blue cotton underwear–and it only takes a second for Mal to have her arms around her.

Regina's hands slide over her ass, giving her skirt a tug and barely waiting for it to hit the floor before her hands slip between them to unbutton her shirt. She's wearing a front-clasp bra, which Regina wastes no time discovering that detail, and when she pushes her shirt off of her shoulders, her bra comes off with it.

Momentarily, Mal shifts, her hands sliding over Regina's hip, her fingers seeking out the elastic band of her underwear–but all she feels is skin. Opening her eyes, she looks down and Regina's lips slip to neck, and she watches Robin kneeling down behind Regina, licking at her. A little shudder escapes her as she watches him, watching his lips and tongue lapping over her as his erection strains at the front of his pants.

"Does that feel good?" She asks, looking back to Regina, who offers a breathy sigh and nod as her answer.

Grinning, Mal crouches down, giving Regina one long lick that makes her shudder before her lips close around her clit. Robin continues to lick her and every now and then, she feels his tongue brush against her chin.

Regina starts to tremble, her breath growing ragged and louder as she grinds herself against their mouths–and that's when they both decide to pull away from her.

Mal watches as Regina turns, her fingers working to loosen Robin's belt as she pushes him back to the desk chair. Grinning, Mal goes to the nightstand and fishes out a condom Jefferson took for himself, tearing open the packaging as Regina pulls down Robin's boxer shorts, letting his erection spring free.

Robin sits down in the chair and Regina kneels between his legs, taking him in her mouth. Mal sits beside her, rubbing her hand over her ass and kissing her shoulder, until her fingers find the wet spot between her legs–and she can't help but feel a triumphant little thrill run through her as her finger dips inside of Regina, making her moan with Robin's cock in her mouth and, in turn, making him moan.

A few minutes later, Regina pulls away, looking to Mal as she holds out her hand for the condom. She gives it to her, watching as she rolls it onto Robin. Her eyes trail up Regina's body as she rises up and turns to face her, backing herself up and spreading her legs over Robin's. Her hands grip the arms of the chair and Robin holds her hips as she positions herself, slowing lowering herself onto his cock until he's fully inside of her.

It takes a moment for her to adjust, breathing in and out with a soft smile on her face–and then she starts to rock her hips. Robin's arm hooks around her as his lips find the crook of her neck–and Mal sits back on her legs, watching as they fuck.

She enjoys this–watching them together–watching Regina ride Robin's cock, listening to their breathy moans, content sighs and muffled words of encouragement escaping them.

But she also likes to participate. Licking her lips, she leans in, resting one of her hands on Robin's inner thigh to anchor herself. Her hand kneads at his balls, massaging and tugging in away that never seems to fail to make him come just a little bit harder and her lips focus on Regina's clit.

Robin breathes out her name and a so fucking good against Regina's skin as her hips start to buck. Mal smiles and sucks harder as Regina starts to quake. Robin holds her as her hips begin to move involuntarily as her orgasm rips through her.

"Come here," Regina coos, her eyes hooded and her voice ragged as she looks down at her. "I want to kiss you."

It takes no more invitation than that.

Mal climbs up onto Robin's legs, sitting with her legs spread open and her chest pressed to Regina's–and as her lips meet hers, Robin's hands find her, rubbing softly and securing her.

She moves her hips in rhythm with them and she can feel Robin fucking Regina as her clit grinds against Regina's. Regina kisses her–wet and hard–and though she's fairly certain that this isn't going to get her off, it feels nice and is the sort of thing she'd liked to do again, but next time on a lazy, rainy day when they've got all the world to tease each other.

Regina's hands clutch the side of her face, rubbing at her jaw as they kiss–and as Robin lets out a low grunt, his fingers press harder into her hip and she can almost feel him coming.

She pulls away first and then Regina gets up and for a moment, none of them can manage any more than a giggle–and then Regina turns to her.

"You didn't get an orgasm."

"Oh, I–"

"Jefferson hasn't come back yet," she says, grinning as she takes a couple of steps toward her. "And we still haven't had any of that wine you mentioned."

"Well, I obviously didn't need to use it on you. I thought I might have to give you a bit of liquid courage before convincing you to let us have our way with you here." She grins. "And the point was to finish before he got back."

"Was it?" Robin asks as me moves to the closet, finding the bottle of wine easily and then pulling a knit blanket off of the shelf. "I don't remember that being an objective."

"Besides, this was your all idea and–"

Mal blinks as she looks between them, her eyes finally settling on Regina. "And my hope was to give you a quick orgasm, not get one for myself."

She laughs as Robin shuts the closet door, practically ignoring them as he fans the blanket out on the bed and examines the bottle of wine. "Screw top," he announces. "Classy."

Mal laughs as he pats the bed, twisting off the top of the wine and taking a swig. "Let us catch our breath and then we'll have another go," he says, holding out the bottle to both her and Regina. Regina takes it and takes a sip before climbing into bed with him and cuddling against his chest, and as she draws in a deep breath, he does this same.

It's not long before the bottle of wine is half empty and Robin's cock is in her hand. They trade lazy kisses as Regina gets between her legs, licking and sucking in a way that makes it hard for her to remember why she'd tried to protest–and a smile edges into her lips as a Bing Crosby record begins, serenading them from the party going on downstairs.

She wasn't sure what spurred it on, but that morning–a rainy Saturday–Mal woke up in a playful mood. She'd giggled as she pressed a kiss to her shoulder, slowly waking her, and as Regina's eyes fluttered open a grin edged onto her lips as Mal's hand slipped into her pajama bottoms.

Her breath caught as Mal fingered her–fingers thrusting rhythmically as her thumb rubbed in a circular motion over her clit–and Mal grinned at her, clearly pleased with the effect she was having on her. Leaning in, she kissed her–soft, but firm–as her fingers picked up the pace, thrusting and curling, hitting on the spot that never failed to make her squirm.

Regina's hand gripped the sheet as her orgasm began to build and Mal pulled back, grinning at her as she told her she wanted to watch her come. Regina's cheeks flushed a bit as Mal's thumb rubbed harder, her fingers moving faster inside of her until she exploded–and then a little giggle rose out of Mal as she turned and looked back at Robin, sleeping beside them, completely unaware of what they were up to.

It was Mal's idea to wake him up–carefully undoing the fly of his pajama bottoms, then shifting herself to the opposite side of him so that Robin was in the middle. Regina watched as Mal's tongue slipped up and down his shaft a few times, all the while eyeing her, and after a couple of licks, Mal tipped his cock toward her, giggling as Regina's lips wrapped around the tip of his cock while Robin sighed contently in his sleep.

For awhile they took turns, licking and sucking his cock–and when his eyes had finally opened, they'd both laughed when he told them he thought this had all been happening in a dream. He reached for Mal, pulling her to him as he kissed her–and as Regina looked up at them, she watched as Robin pulled off Mal's nightgown as she knelt over his face.

They spent hours that morning that way–kissing and teasing each other, their touches lazy and a bit aimless–and every now and then, one of them would drift back to sleep only to be awoken by the others.

She can't remember the last time she and Robin spent a morning like this in bed–much less the last time she, Robin, and Mal had done it–but it was nice to be able to forget everything that was looming over them, and she was glad for it.

In a lot of ways, it reminded her of the way things used to be between them–and it reminded her that it could be this way again.

A little voice at the back of her head keeps reminding her that it's well-past eleven, and she has to actively remind herself to ignore it, reminding herself that, not only is it a rainy Saturday, the kids are away and no one needs her immediate attention–or at least, no one outside of their bedroom.

Robin doesn't seem to have that worry.

Her head is on his shoulder and his head rests atop hers, his arm loose around her shoulders as he leans back against the pillows of their bed. Through the mirror, she can see him–and Mal, actually–and a soft, satisfied grin is stretched across his lips. He draws in slow and deliberate breaths, looking very much like he's on the verge of falling asleep again. Her eyes shift to Mal, whose head is in her lap. She's clearly awake, but quiet; for the first time in longer than she can remember, she looks like she's there in the moment, present and unbothered by thoughts rolling around in her head. Mal looks content–and the image of the three of them looks so natural to her.

Regina's fingers comb through her hair and she grins as a soft little sigh escapes her.

"Are you hungry?"

"A little," Mal admits.

"I could make–" Regina stops, giggle softly. "Well, I can make almost-okay scrambled eggs, and I've finally figured out what setting to put the toaster on to not burn the toast."

"But I don't want to get up," Mal tells her. "And if you get up, then I have to."

Regina laughs. Physically, that's true. Mal is laying on top of her, pinning her down and making it difficult to move; her getting up would definitely mean that Mal would have to move, too. "Are you trying to say you don't trust me in the kitchen?"

"No," Mal admits, a soft giggle rising into her voice. "But I don't trust you in the kitchen."

Her tongue clicks. "I haven't poisoned anyone–"

"I beg to differ," Robin says, groggily piping in. "I seem to remember some pancakes with practically liquid centers."

"That was one time."

"It happened."

Her eyes roll as Mal giggles. "So, we tossed them back in the pan–"

"Maple syrup and all."

Again, Mal giggles. "Well, no one has to cook this morning… or afternoon, whichever it is. I made a frittata. We just have to pop it in the oven and–"

"When did you do that?"

Mal rolls onto her back and looks up at her. "Well, there were some eggs that needed to be used up and… some other things and…" Her lip catches between her teeth as her brow furrows. "What did you think I was doing in the kitchen last night?"

Regina blinks. "Honestly, I had no idea."

Robin laughs and she swats at his chest, but he catches her hand and pulls her to him–and as he kisses her, she hears Mal giggle.

"You've really never done that with leftovers? Tossed them into a frittata or a quiche? It's so easy and… practical."

Regina's brow arches and she looks at her quizzically, wondering why she'd even bothering to ask when she already knows the answers–and then, her expression grows coy. "See," she says, looking down at Mal. "This is why we need you."

"Yeah," Robin echos. "Otherwise we just… waste food and risk botulism."

"Well, technically, it'd be salmonella."

Robin laughs and Regina's eyes roll as she leans forward, curling herself toward Mal to kiss her.

"I'm serious–"

"So am I," Mal laughs, sitting up when Regina pulls back. "Salmonella is very serious and very avoidable."

"I meant about needing you."

"Every Saturday could be like this," Robin tells her. "We could–"

"It wouldn't be like this," Mal cuts in. "You have children to take care of."

"Okay," Robin sighs. "Not just like this, but–"

"They love sleeping in," Regina cuts in. "Finally." A little grin tugs onto her lips as she momentarily looks back at Robin, then back to Mal. "And they'd love you and your frittatas and–"

"Maybe the frittatas," Mal says, a grin tugging up from the corner of her mouth. "Especially if partially-cooked pancakes is what they're used to." Almost shyly, she looks between them. "That does sound nice."

"It would be," Regina says softly, a little bit of hope beginning to bubble."

"It'd be perfect."

"Sounds like it," Mal agrees. "But it wouldn't–"

"It would work," Regina cuts it.

"We'd make it work."

"I want it too, but–" She sighs. "It's too complicated, too messy–"

"So what?" Robin says, shrugging his shoulders. "Who wants a boring cookie-cutter life? Hm?"

"Most people," Mal tells him. "Most people want a normal life that–"

"We already aren't normal," Regina says, taking Mal's hand and giving it a squeeze. "You should see the way the other moms look at me for daring to have a career."

"That's… not at all the same."

"So?"

"Regina–"

"I want you to stay. I want my sons to know you. I want–"

"I want to stay," she cuts in, her eyes widening as she looks between them. "More than anything, I want to stay."

"Then–"

"In spite of everything that's happened over the last couple of months, I am happier than I have been in a very long time."

Robin's eyes narrow. "You… aren't making a very good case as to why you shouldn't stay."

Mal nods, smiling a bit sadly as she looks between them. "Because my feelings aren't the only ones that matter," she tells them. "That's why I can't–"

She doesn't get to finish.

The phone rings–sharp and shrill–interrupting their conversation and diverting their attention to the closed bedroom door. It rings again and again, and with a reluctant sigh, Regina gets up to answer it.

She ties her robe around her waist, annoyed that she has to leave them, and she pads down the hall to where the phone sits in its little enclave at the end of the hallway–and as soon as she picks it up, her eyes press closed at the sound of Belle's voice and reality crashes down onto her shoulders.

"When did they arrive?"

"This morning," Belle tells her. "And I can't imagine what else you'd be getting from India."

Regina sighs. "Only Mal's medical records."

"You… sound disappointed."

"No," Regina says. "I just… I'm dreading looking at them." She pauses, looking back toward the bedroom. "And part of me wonders if I even want to see them, if I need to…"

Belle hesitates for a moment. "I can put them on your desk. You can decide what to do with them on Mon–"

"No," Regina cuts in. "I'll come and grab them. It'll drive me crazy, wondering."

"I could drop them–"

"Oh, no, that's not necessary," Regina says, cutting her office. "I don't want you to go out of your way. It's bad enough you're working on a Saturday."

"Well, I'm not… working, exactly," Belle admits a bit sheepishly. "Lacey has this new boyfriend–" Her voice halts and she sighs. "My sister makes studying incredibly difficult."

"Well, you're more than welcome to use the office, and if you want somewhere to stay, we have a spare room."

"Oh, I couldn't–"

"I promise," Regina says, laughing softly to herself and thinking of the uncooked pancakes Robin had just been teasing her about. "I won't try to feed you."

Belle laughs, but insists the office is more than enough and really is the best place for her because is free of distraction–and as she explains away something that doesn't need to be explained, Regina remembers that Robin told her about their relationship with Mal. She bristles, wondering if that's the real reason Belle doesn't want to come over–and before she can dwell on it for too long, she pushes it out of her mind, refusing to care what anyone thinks of their relationship.

"I feel myself getting a little stir-crazy," Belle admits. "I'm going to finish up this reading and my notes, then probably walk to get a bite to eat. Really, swinging by wouldn't be a problem."

Regina considers it. "I am curious…"

"Then, I'll be by in say… two hours?"

"I'll see you then," Regina says, drawing in a breath as her stomach flutters nervously and she returns the phone to its cradle–and as she looks back the the bedroom, a feeling of dread washes over her.

Mal has been so secretive about those records, reluctant to share whatever is in them–and while that makes her all the more inclined to think something is there that she could use in Mal's defense, it makes her uneasy thinking that Mal was intentionally hiding something. It just didn't make sense for her to do it, especially not after she'd shown them the pictures.

Chewing at her lip, she slowly makes her way back to the bedroom, hating that she is about to burst the happy little bubble they'd spend the morning in–but as she rounds the corner into the bedroom, she realizes she can't do it.

Not just yet–not when they still have a little more time to enjoy each other before reality sets in again.

A little grin tugs up onto her lips as Robin and Mal come into view.

Mal is sitting in Robin's lap, a blanket bunched up around her hips. Robin's fingers stum gently up and down her bare back. Her hands are on either side of his face, holding onto him as they kiss–and judging by the way her hips are slowly rocking, they're doing a bit more than kissing.

Pulling on the knot at the front of her rope, she opens it up and loosens it as she cross the room and gets back into bed. Shrugging off her robe, she watches them for a moment, trying to decide what she wants to do. Leaning in she presses a kiss to Mal's shoulder, then leans up kisses Robin's cheek–and as they each try to reach for her, she shakes her head, smiling a bit sly as she decides she just wants to watch.

Regina lays back against the pillows on her side of the bed, turning her head and adjusting herself until she has just the view that she wants–and when she's finally settled, her hand slips between her legs, pleasuring herself as Robin and Mal pleasure each other.

Mal's eyes press closed and her head falls back as Regina clicks her tongue and folds her arms dramatically–and when she does, Robin's eyes roll as he laments her added flair of drama.

They've been at this for at least two hours–longer. She supposes since Granny warned her that a storm was brewing as she headed toward the stairs at the back of the diner, and when she looks back at her, her eyes shifted to the large front window and she silently noted the bright, clear sky. She'd smiled and nodded as she continued up, and Granny called behind her that if she tired of it,she could come down for some coffee and pie–and before she could wonder what it was, she heard Regina's voice, and she understood.

Though neither of them bothered to clue her in, she'd picked up enough to follow along.

From what she'd gathered, Regina's mother had requested her presence at some sort of family gathering–a wedding, it seemed, but she couldn't quite be sure–and Robin hadn't been bestowed an invitation. Regina insisted it wasn't a problem and he insisted that it was–and when she'd suggested he just come anyway, he balked at that, claiming it'd only give her parents more reason to dislike him.

It had spiraled from there. Regina calling out Robin's avoidance of anything he felt intimidated by–which he adamantly denied–and he claimed that she'd sacrifice anything to please her mother–which she'd been insulted by. Mal assumed the truth was somewhere in between and she understood where both were coming from. Feeling out of place was her version of normal, yet no matter how hard she tried, breaking away from her family wasn't something she could ever really do. They didn't understand what they knew about her, and what they didn't know they'd certainly never approve of, so she hid it and pretended in an effort to please them.

It was embarrassing to think about the things she'd done to win their approval–her engagement to Stefan Perrault, notwithstanding.

She'd tried to play referee, trying to make them see the other's point, both empathizing and playing devil's advocate. Somehow, they each thought she was taking their side–regardless of what she said–and she decided that meant that they weren't actually listening. And no matter what she said, Regina only yelled louder and Robin's face grew redder.

They didn't mean to upset her–she knew that–but arguing always made her a bit uncomfortable, and after two hours of it, her stomach was unsettled and her nerves were on edge. It was stupid, she knew, but there were frustrated tears welling in her eyes, and it reminded her of all the times her parents would fight when she was a little girl. She'd hid in the closet in her bedroom, crouched down behind the wool coats at the back, clutching a little red and yellow silky stuffed dragon her grandfather had brought back from a trip to China. She closed her eyes, pressing them as tight as she could, as she started to hum her favorite songs, trying desperately to drown them out–and she found herself thinking of those songs whenever Stefan yelled at her, desperately wishing there was a closet she could go and hide in and a little stuffed friend who could bring her comfort.

For a moment, she stood there, just watching them–watching as they screamed, bringing up petty fights that had long been settled, fueling the argument they were currently having–and then, she remembered Granny's offer of coffee and pie.

They didn't notice when she slipped away–or at least, they didn't stop yelling at each other when she left–and she breathed out a sigh of relief as she walked to the end of the hall and made her way down the stairs, their voices fading away.

Granny grins knowingly as she appears, setting a plate and a coffee cup down at an empty spot at the end of the counter. By the time she sits, Granny is pouring her coffee a little chuckle bubbling up from her. "I was wondering when you'd show up."

"They're exhausting."

"That's what happens when two stubborn people disagree."

Her eyes roll as Granny pours a little milk into her coffee cup and hands her a small container of loose sugar. "I suppose that's true, it's just… they're both mad about the same thing."

"I'm sure," Granny nods. "And I'm sure if they just took a second to listen–"

"That's what I told them!"

"You might've said it, but they didn't hear it," Granny says as she reaches for a little bottle of vanilla, dropping a few droplets into her cup. "It'll blow over… eventually."

"I hope so."

"Are you staying the weekend?"

Biting down on her lip, she nods. "Well, Regina and I were going to go shop–"

"You don't need to justify it," she cuts in. "I just hope whatever's going on up there doesn't ruin your weekend plans."

"Me, too," she admits. "It's just…"

"Awkward."

She nods. "When people argue it just… it makes me feel…"

"Unsettled?"

"Yeah."

"Alright, which do you want?" Granny asks. "The pecan and keylime are fresh."

"Keylime," she says easily, grinning as Granny cuts into the untouched pie–and she laughs a bit when she cuts a slice that could easily be served as two. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," Granny tells her. "Whipped cream?"

"Of course."

"I figured," she laughs as she reaches for the can, topping the slice with a mountain of fluffy cream that practically covers it. "There's more where that came, in case that's not enough."

"Thank you," she laughs, grabbing a fork and cutting into the slice–and the sound that escapes her when she puts it in her mouth should be embarrassing, but it tastes too good for her to care. "Oh my god. This is amazing."

"New recipe," Granny explains. "You're my taste tester."

"Well, I'm happy to be of service."

"I'm sure," Granny laughs, winking at her as she puts away the whipped cream. "You just tell me if you need another slice, you know, just in case you're not sure if you like it or not."

"I… think that's a definite possibility."

"So, what are you girls shopping for?"

"Hm?"

"You and Regina are going shopping tomorrow," Granny says, leaning against the counter in front of her. "What are you looking for."

"Oh," she murmurs. "The pie is so good, I forgot about that." Swallowing the bite of pie she looks up. "Dresses–I need one for some party my father's having, and she wants to start looking for something for graduation… you know, so she can save up."

"I sew, you know. If you don't find something you like, see if you can find a pattern."

"Really?" she asks, brightening. "You'd make her a dress?"

"You too–I know money isn't an issue for you, but I'd like to do it, if you're interested." She grins. "After all, you've been paying far too much for coffee and pie and burgers for years now."

A grin pulls onto her lips. Sometimes she forgets what her life was like before Robin and Regina came into it–and though the memory is a bit faded, she still remembers the first time she walked into Granny's diner. She'd found a book about Buddhism at a rummage sale down the road and after ordering a cup of coffee and a slice of banana cream pie–and the next thing she knew the sun was setting and the diner was empty. Granny was wiping down tables and putting up chairs–and it only occurred to her then that she'd taken up one of the few booths in the diner that someone who'd spent more than quarter could have had. As an apology, she asked to help closed up, and though Granny said it wasn't necessary, she insisted. So Granny put her to work, refilling ketchup bottles and topping off the salt and pepper shakers. The next day, she'd returned with a new book in hand–that time a late nineteenth-century catalog from the Louvre–and she'd ordered a full breakfast followed by lunch a few hours later–and once more she lost track of time, and that evening Granny showed her how to take the day-old and going-stale bread and turn it into French toast to be served in the morning rush.

And that'd been that.

It'd been a routine whenever she was in town–which was as often as she could be.

She liked that Granny never asked questions about why she was there. She didn't push her to talk about anything, but was always willing to listen. Granny had been the one who'd passed along a flier she'd found for a party that one of the legal fraternities was having–and though she assumed she was probably trying to nudge her into finding a boyfriend, she was grateful for her intentions. She'd ended up going to the party and several that followed, and she liked that there was a group of people her own age whom could carry on conversations about art, jazz, politics, and philosophy and other things heiresses weren't supposed to be interested in. No one there knew her–not really–but they were different than the friends she'd grown up with and she was grateful for them.

Whether she knew it or not, Granny Lucas had become an important person in her life, and she brought a sort of soothing calmness she'd never before experienced–and whenever she needed that, whenever she needed someone to make her chicken soup or give her a slice of pie to drown her sorrows in, Granny was there.

She only wished she could open up to her–that she could tell her about Stefan, about Robin and Regina–because Granny always knew what to do or what to say…

"I am, I think," Mal says, trying not to sound too eager, mindful of that fact that she's not the one in need. "And I think Regina would be, too."

"Alright, then if you don't find something or find something too expensive, just let me know."Granny offers a quick wink. "I haven't made one in years. I miss it. Dresses aren't really my granddaughter's thing, and making pants just isn't as fun."

"No, I don't imagine they would be."

"I made my daughter's wedding dress, and my mother and I made mine." Granny's eyes narrow. "You're getting married soon, aren't you?"

Mal bristles, offering a half nod. "Something like that."

"Have you set a date?"

"No."

Granny's eyes narrow. "Why not? You've been engaged as long as I can remember."

"As long as I can remember, too," Mal admits with a little shrug, deciding to focus on the pie instead of the conversation. "We're, um… we're waiting until after the war."

"Ah–"

"And it seems like it's been going on forever."

"You sound relieved."

Mal looks up with wide eyes. "No…"

"It's okay, honey," Granny tells her, grabbing her hand and giving it a little squeeze. "It's okay to not want to marry a man who was picked out for you by your father when you were a toddler." At that, she scoffs. "There's a reason people don't do it like that anymore."

"My people do."

"Well, there's always one who needs to break the mold."

"I don't think that'll be me."

"I'm not saying it has to, I just think… I just think you should keep your options open." She grins a little as her eyes narrow, and Mal's attention returns to the pie, cutting off a large chunk and shoving it into her mouth. "An option that makes you happy… even if it's something your family disapproves of."

"Maybe."

"You might surprise yourself, and… they might surprise you."

"I don't think that's possible."

"You never know," Granny says, looking past her as the bell on the door jingles and a couple comes in. "Finish that slice and I'll get you another when I come back."

Laughing softly to herself, she nods–and again, she aches to tell her.

The burden of her engagement is getting heavier, and though her father and Stefan's father agreed that their marriage should wait until after the war so that Stefan's brother, Leopold, could be there–patience was running thin. She hadn't picked bridesmaids or colors, she'd never gone to look at dresses or venues, and whenever the subject came up she other tried to shift the conversation to anything else or fell quiet and let everyone around her talk about it.

She didn't want to marry Stefan, she never did–but that feeling was getting stronger and her apathy was turning into resistance.

She looked at the lives of the girls she'd gone to school with, nothing about it appealed to her, and she wasn't sure she'd get beyond the wedding day. Everyone was so wrapped up in that, that no one seemed at all concerned that she was marrying a man who couldn't stand her, a man who she couldn't stand. They had nothing in common, no shared interests to make the other's company even remotely tolerable, and the thought of spending the rest of her life hosting dinner parties on his behalf, laughing at crude jokes that weren't funny and walking the fine line between keeping him drunk enough to ignore her, but not so drunk that he became forceful with her.

And then, there was the complication of the alternative.

She was happy in the little apartment upstairs with Robin and Regina, and she only ever felt fully herself and entirely at ease when she was with them. But what they had wasn't long-lasting. It wasn't something she could build a life around. Eventually, they'd realize that having a girlfriend on the side was more trouble than it was worth. They'd be working and they'd have new friends, work-related obligations and social events–and she didn't fit into any of that. She assumed she'd see them less and less, that things would fizzle out–and then, once they had kids, that would be it. She'd be a part of their past–and she only hoped it'd be a part of their past that they looked back on fondly and not with regret.

"Alright, what do you say to another slice of pie and then once you're done, go on up and make sure they're still alive up there?"

"That sounds like a perfect plan."

"Good," Granny says offering her a nod as she slices a second slice that's somehow bigger than the first. "I'll send you up with slice of Dutch apple for Regina–"

"That may actually calm her down."

"–and a slice of the pecan for Robin," she says, winking. "I'll pop it in the oven so it's nice and warm."

"That's so thoughtful."

"Well, you know, it's hard to stay mad when you're in the presence of good food."

Granny disappears into the kitchen as she pushes her fork into the pie–and for awhile, she, again, gets lost in thought–but this time, instead of getting caught up in her own complicated situation, she finds Granny's words rattling around in her head, and she wonders if whatever's bothering them can be solved with a some pie, and a good meal, and maybe a nice bottle of wine.

She finishes the pie as Granny comes out of the kitchen with two omelettes and some toast, and by the time she's done serving the couple who'd just come in, Mal is finishing the pie and washing it down with the coffee she'd nearly forgotten about.

By the time she finishes, Granny returns with two plates of the promised pie, and she pats her arm as she rises up and goes to the stairs–and as she climbs up them, she can't help but notice the distinct absence of yelling.

Drawing in a breath, she lets herself into the apartment, her eyes rolling when she finds Regina sitting in the window, pouting with her arms folded over her chest. Robin is on the couch, pretending to read the newspaper like he doesn't actually care that Regina's pissed at him, but the tightness of his jaw gives him away.

Mal rolls her eyes as she closes the door behind her, a moment later, she plucks the newspaper away from him and holds out the pie, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. He reaches for her wrist to pull her to him, but she doesn't let him, offering a quick wink before turning to Regina. She walks the pie to her, stifling the urge to laugh when Regina perks up a little, and as she hands her the pie, she quickly kisses her lips. Like Robin, Regina reaches for her–and just as she did with Robin, she pulls back.

A grin pulls onto her lips as she walks back to the kitchen, wondering if what Granny said was true and figuring there's no better time to test it out–and she leaves them, she can feel them watching, and already they're distracted.

They're all sitting on the patio, listening to the rain coming down when the doorbell rings–and Mal can't help but flinch. Robin's brow arches as he looks up from a book he's reading and Regina puts the newspaper down, looking unsurprised but a little unsettled as the bell rings again.

"A-are you expecting someone?"

"Belle is stopping by," Regina says, looking between them. "She called this morning."

"Ah," Robin murmurs. "I'd wondered."

A grin pulls onto Regina's lips as her eyes roll. "Yes, when I returned you looked incredibly curious about the phone call I'd gotten."

A little laugh escapes Mal as both Robin and Regina get up–and Regina makes her way into the house, she wonders if she should follow. Of course, to anyone who doesn't know the situation, she's merely a house guest–an old friend from law school, as they'd told a neighbor who'd asked about her one morning when Robin was getting the mail. That was typically the line. It had worked when they were together the last time, all those years ago, and there was no reason to think it wouldn't work now.

But Belle was a bit different.

Belle and Regina were close, and there was no doubt that she'd seen things on the days that Regina brought her into the office. Regina wasn't nearly as careful as she'd once been and the heightened emotion of their reunion seemed to only encouraged her to throw caution to the wind.

And that made her more nervous than she could ever explain.

At first, she just assumed she could wait on the patio, after all, she had a pitcher of a peach bellini cocktail to keep her company–and if she got bored, there were dishes to be done and a dinner that needed to be figured out–but Robin held out his hand to her, wiggling his fingers expectantly, and when she'd hesitated, he'd smiled sweetly and reached for her hand, pulling her up

Her heart starts to beat a bit faster as Robin leads her inside and she can hear Belle and Regina's voices. He doesn't let go of her hand as Regina and Belle come into view–and when she tries to pull back, he stops.

"It's okay," he tells her, his voice and eyes soft and reassuring. "She, uh… she knows."

Her eyes widen and her stomach tightens. "Sh-she does?"

"It's fine."

"But–"

"She wouldn't be here if it wasn't fine."

"Robin, fine is a vague and misleading term."

Grinning, he nods, his eyes narrowing as he tries again. "She and I had lunch the other day, and I told her about you and–"

"About me."

"Yes, and what you mean to me… and Regina."

Swallowing, she nods. She hears him and understands what he's saying, but her heart is pounding and her stomach aches–and it's only when he gives her hand a little squeeze, that she realizes her hands are trembling.

"She's… fine with it," he says.

"But–"

"She was relieved, actually." Her eyes widen a bit and she thinks to protest, but she can't quite find her voice–and then Robin gives her hand another squeeze. "She doesn't quite understand, but she won't judge us."

Her eyes sink closed and she nods–but the little voice in her head is screaming at her.

Robin presses a kiss to her cheek and rubs his thumb to her wrist and when she opens her eyes, she has to blink away her tears. By the time she's composed enough to move forward, Regina and Belle are coming toward them.

Belle smiles sweetly as Regina's arm slips around her waist, and she barely hears the pleasantries they exchange. She hears her own voice though, so she knows she hasn't been rude, and Belle doesn't let on that anything seems amiss.

She hears Robin offer up a drink, and Belle accepts–and then a moment later, they're walking back to the patio, leaving her and Regina alone.

"Are you okay?"

"Regina, I don't think you two have thought this through."

Regina's eyes narrow. "What do you mean?"

"You might trust Belle, and maybe her intentions would be good. But, if she says something or–"

"We don't want you to be a secret, Mal," Regina says, shrugging her shoulders as a little smile forms over her lips. "I'm not saying we need to advertise it to the world, but the people who are closer to us… there's no reason they can't know."

"But–"

"We love you. We want you to be a part of our life, a real part of our life."

Her throat tightens as her eyes fall away. "And if… if they can't accept it?" she asks, finding it almost painful to force out her voice. "If they can't accept… me?"

"Then we don't need them in our lives."

"Regina–"

"If someone important to us can't accept your place in our life, then we don't need that person in it."

She nods, and the question she wants to ask gets caught in her throat. She wants to point out that there are two people whose opinions matter more than a few close friends, two people who can't be pushed aside–but she also doesn't want to see that realization settle in her eyes, not when she's feeling this vulnerable.

Regina gives her a little wink as her arm tightens around her waist, and together they join Robin and Belle on the patio–and when Belle smiles warmly, she feels a smile pulling at her lips as her stomach flutters.

"I'm glad you decided to stay," Regina says, as they sit together on the wicker couch–her arm loosely around her. "I actually have another favor… as if coming here to drop off mail on your day off isn't enough."

"Like I said, I was glad to get out for a while and look at something that doesn't give me a dull headache."

Robin laughs, and they talk a little about the class that Belle is taking–and she realizes that she's in her last year of law school. She finds herself laughing as Belle explains she's actually been using Regina's office space as a place to study and do homework, and that while splitting rent with her sister seemed like a good idea, it's proved to be disastrous, and she can't help but be reminded of Regina when she was at that same place in her life–and for some reason, that relaxes her a bit.

"So," Regina beings, drawing in a breath as she looks to Belle. "I need you to find contact information for Judge Archibald Hopper." Mal's brow furrows as Regina says the name–she knows it from somewhere. "He was a professor I had in–"

"The one we used to tease you about," Mal says quietly, as the realization settles. "I remember him."

"Me, too," Robin sighs. "He's some big shot with the state's Bar Association now."

"Ah–"

"Well, that gives me quite a bit to work with," Belle says, tipping her glass up and emptying her drink into her mouth. "Should I call you with it or–"

"I'll grab it Monday."

"Okay," Belle nods. "Well, I've got a mock trial to prepare for, and… I have a lot to prepare."

"Let us know if you need any help," Robin says, winking in a way that's almost paternal. "Just call."

Regina nods. "And thank you again."

"No problem," Belle inists as she rises up–and it's only then that she realizes there was a purpose for this visit–and all of her nervousness comes rushing back.

They all walk Belle out and her stomach flutters as they say goodbye–and she can't help but notice the way Belle leans in to give her a quick little hug, just as she did with Robin and Regina and as she pulls back, she winks. It's a silent show of acceptance and a gesture to demonstrate that she can trust her, and as Regina closed the door and she and Robin turn away from it, her eye catches a thick envelope, postmarked from India.

"You… requested my medical records," she says, her mouth suddenly dry.

"Yes."

"But, I–"

"Mal, I told you I was going to do this."

"And if I don't want you to see them?" she asks, her voice small as it cracks, her eyes filled with tears. "What then?" She looks up, watching as Robin and Regina exchange a look–a look she knows all too well. "It's personal."

"I realize that," Regina say, her voice soft and tentative. "But we're trying to build a case that proves you were the victim and–"

"Don't the pictures do that?"

"They do," Regina says, nodding. "But there's this thing about doubt and–" Her eyes close, and she can tell it's difficult for her to say. "And since you took them and there were so few people around when all this was happening, I…"

"Mal, she's not trying to hurt you, or make you relive things that are painful. I promise," Robin supplies when Regina's voice fades out.

Her eyes press closed as she thinks of what happened in India, in those first months of her marriage that set the stage for the years that would come after it. Up until India, she was confident that she and Stefan could go on living two seperate lives. They could appear together when they needed to, they could live in the same house–or apartment or hotel suite–but otherwise, live separate lives. Until India, she'd been able to dismiss the abuse–and until India, she was reluctant to even call it that.

Before, he might grab her a little too hard or shove her into something, he'd make threats and slap her, but he was never wild and uncontrollable–and usually, there was a reason. He'd either had too much to drink or something happened to provoke him, and she assumed that she could just stay out of his way–and she assumed he'd have no complaint over that, after all, it was no secret that he didn't like her and he barely tolerated her company.

"Mal, is… is there something you don't want us to see?" Regina asks in a voice that's full of emotion. "Because–"

She draws in a breath, flinching at the question–and inadvertently giving her an answer.

"You'll hate me."

"No," they both say.

"We couldn't."

She looks up, her eyes shifting to Robin, her eyes flooding with tears as her chest aches. "Don't be so sure."

"Mal–"

"I didn't realize it at the time, but when I left, and when I married Stefan, I was pregnant," she says, her voice bursting out of her as she decides to just put it out there, rather than for them to slowly discern it for themselves from whatever information was written in that file–but once she pushes out the words, she finds them more difficult than she'd even imagined. "But I lost it."

"You lost it?" Regina repeats, her head tipping to the side. "Y-you had a miscarriage?"

She nods. "At about four months."

"Oh, Mal–"

"Mal, I'm sorry."

She tries to reply–they haven't quite connected the dots yet–but when she tries to speak, her words get stuck and her breath catches in her lungs, her throat tightening as she struggles to swallow.

She's never done this before. After it was done, it wasn't discussed. It was like it never happened–and then, she'd ached to tell someone about it. She'd started writing a hundred letters that she always ended up tossing into the fire and even when she wrote about it in a journal, she ended up tearing out the pages and ripping them to shreds, hating the way the words looked on paper and the way that they made her feel.

She feels dizzy as they lead her into the living room, vaguely nauseous even remembering it– memories she hadn't allowed herself to think about begin to flicker through her mind, hurting just as much now as they had all those years ago.

She knows they have to have a thousand questions, but they're patient and they don't ask. Instead, they just sit on either side of her, holding her hands and rubbing her back, reminding her that what's done is done and it's over now, and that they love her–and it's almost enough to reassure her.

Almost, but not quite.

"You should look," she says, not sure she'll be able to tell the story. "I'm sure it's all there."

"Maybe this wasn't a good idea," Regina says. "Maybe–"

"I wanted to tell you–both of you–but I couldn't."

"Mal–"

She draws in a shaky breath. "I'd made my decision, and I had to live with it… regardless of the cost."

"That's… not entirely fair," Robin says. "You can't put this on yourself like that."

"Yeah," Regina agrees. "You couldn't have–" She stops, drawing in a shaky breath. "Sometimes, things happen and–"

"I let it happen."

"Regina's right," Robin says, his hand rubbing the spot between her shoulder blades as Regina holds her hand. "It's terrible, but sometimes–"

"I should have never gotten pregnant. I was careless and–"

Robin scoffs–and as he begins to refute her, his voice hitches. He's catching on. "Mal, was… was the baby you lost…was it…"

"Yours?" she asks, looking to him with tears welling in her eyes, offering a barely noticeable nod. "Yes."

His eyes sink closed as he pressed his eyes closed, sucking in a breath and holding it in his lungs. Regina reaches for his hand, her fingers curling around his his palm–and she has to look away.

"First rule of sleeping with someone else's boyfriend is to not get pregnant," she says dryly as her own eyes press closed. "I should–"

"It wasn't like that," Regina cuts in. "You know that it wasn't like that… and I think we all knew the risks."

"I should have been more careful."

She doesn't reply, but her breath catches as Robin's head falls forward, his forehead pressing to her's. "I'm sorry," he whispers, likely not knowing what else to say. "I'm sorry you had to go through that alone."

"I… I know that I… I would never have been able to keep her, but–"

"Her?"

She nods. "The, um… the nurse told me that… that the baby I lost was a girl."

"Oh, Mal–"

"I called her Lily," she tells them, her voice barely audible–and it occurs to her that it's the first time she's ever said the name aloud, and somehow, voicing it, despite all the years that have passed, makes the hurt more real.

"Mal," Regina begins, clearing her throat. "How, um… how did it happen?"

She blinks, looking up at her and finding her blurry. "What do you mean? How did I get pregnant or–"

"No," Regina murmurs as her voice trails off. "How did the miscarriage happen."

Her eyes press closed again and tears slip out from the corners, cold as they fall down her cheeks.

She won't look at them–she can't–and her cheeks are burning as tears spill down her cheeks, and she can still remember that first moment when she woke up in a sterile room and the nurse attending to her told her that she was no longer pregnant.

She can remember how the tears stung in her eyes and the ache in her chest was like nothing she'd ever felt before. She'd been inconsolable, and eventually, the nurse had stopped trying, leaving her to sob in her bed until she made herself sick, wishing that Stefan had killed her, too.

"I.. I can't… I can't say it," she tells them, struggling to manage it.

For years, she told herself that they could never know–especially Robin–because even if they could understand why she left, this was unforgivable. She'd put herself, and therefore her child–Robin's child–in danger. She'd allowed that to happen. She'd been an idiot to think that she could hide it, or even convince him that the baby was his. The timing was all wrong, and even if he did believe, the lie could've only gone on for so long. She and Robin had similar features–blonde hair, blue eyes–and eventually, Stefan would have been able to tell that the child wasn't his, and she couldn't even imagine what horrible things he'd do once he'd discovered it.

"I'm sure it's there."

"Mal, I don't think I should–"

"Please, don't make me say it."

"Okay," Regina murmurs, her voice hardly more than a whisper.

Her eyes open enough to see Regina reach for the file she'd brought with her and set down on the coffee table–and she watches as Regina's eyes shift to Robin when she tears open the envelope. She unwinds the string that binds it together, and when all that's left for her to do is open the folder, she looks up–and Mal nods for her to continue.

And then, she watches Regina's eyes fill with understanding–and her jaw tightens with anger. Robin leans in, his eyes moving quickly over what's written on the page–and like Regina, that's all he seems to need.

And then, something unexpected happens.

Instead of pushing her away, Robin pulls her into his arms, holding her tight against his chest. Regina leans in, hugging her and resting her chin on her shoulder. They hold her until her tears stop, and then for awhile after.

She loses track of how long they stay like that, holding her and crying with her–and when she finally pulls back, a little hint of a grin tries to tug up at the corner of her mouth as a show of gratitude for their understands, but it doesn't quite make it. Robin presses a kiss to her temple, and her tears start again at the realization that they're not angry with her.

Regina sets the file back onto the coffee table, then leans in and strokes her hair, holding her as she asks again what happened–and this time, when she pulls back, she nods, drawing in a breath as she holds each of their hands, and finally, tells them everything.

It hurts to recall that night–the wound still open and unhealed–and she remembers how stupid she felt for thinking she could hide it, and even stupider for thinking that Stefan wouldn't realize her child wasn't his and would allow her to keep it. She doesn't know how he found out. She wasn't really showing yet; but how he found out didn't matter. What mattered was that he had.

He wasn't drunk that night either; his anger and his hate was all his own, and as she laid there, barely conscious, on the floor, she watched as he trashed the hotel suite–a secluded top-floor apartment–and the last thing she remembered was his foot crashing into her as he left.

He'd reported it as a break-in, and Leopold had vouched for him. The police seemed more concerned about the property damage than they had about what happened to her–and though there were too many pieces of the story that didn't add up, no one ever questioned it.

Except for the nurse who'd cared for her in the handful of days she'd been allowed to stay in the hospital–a nurse, who she now knows took very detailed notes about her injuries, notes that contradict the story Stefan and Leopold gave to the authorities.

Regina gets her a glass of water and Robin holds her–and for a few minutes, neither of them says anything.

And then, Robin's voice breaks through the silence. "It wasn't your fault."

"I put myself in the situation. If I hadn't–"

"You didn't create it, though," he says. "You thought you were protecting me and Regina from… whatever Stefan would throw at us. You weren't at fault. He was."

"Maybe," she murmurs, not really believing it. "But still, it… it just… wouldn't have worked out."

"You mean… wouldn't have kept her?"

"I wanted to, Robin. I wanted Lily more than I ever wanted anything in my entire life." Letting out a shaky breath, she sighs. "But our situation wasn't–"

"I'd have wanted her, too, if I'd known about her."

She isn't quite sure what to make of that, but before she can think of something to say, Regina's back with the glass of water and sitting at her side, stroking her hand gently over her arm.

"It wasn't wrong for you to want her," she tells her, her eyes teary and her smile sad. "She might not have been planned, but she'd have been wanted and loved by all of us."

It's odd, the relief she feels, and it's more than a little bit overwhelming. For so long, she'd tried to make herself believe that losing her child–one way or another–was inevitable, but now she knows that wasn't true, and suddenly it hurts so much more.

"Okay," Mal says, surveying the contents of the counter. "We've got everything we need."

"That… looks like a lot."

Robin's brow arches. "There are like… twelve things on the counter. You take notes with at least that many pens and pencils."

"That's different–"

"You're right," Robin says, a coy little grin tugging up at the corner of his mouth. "That's borderline insane," he teases. "Learning to make food is completely normal."

"Robin, I can't even boil hot dogs–"

Mal's nose scrunches. "No one should boil hot dogs."

"I'm never going to remember–"

"Reigna, you practically memorized the textbook for that class we took on the Constitutional Convention during undergrad–"

"And that's why I got you this," Mal says, cutting in as she hoists up a soft French blue cookbook. "I give you the 1937 Better Homes and Gardens cookbook." A little laugh escapes Regina as opens a page marked by a paperclip and grins. "And here, you have written instructions of everything I'm going to show you."

Regina's brow arches–and she looks like she's going to say something sassy, but she only sighs in concession.

"Okay, we're going to do this in steps."

"Baby steps," Robin tells her, grinning as his hand falls to her hip.

"How patronizing."

"Regina," Mal says, her eyes momentarily shifting to Robin. "You can't boil noodles without–"

"I realize I'm a culinary disaster. It's not a coincidence that I live above a diner." Robin and Mal both laugh and she bristles a bit–and despite how much she doesn't want to do this, she's never been one to stand down from a challenge and she hates when people make judgements about it. "So, what's the first step?"

"First we need to get the pan ready," Mal says. "We need to grease it." A little laugh escapes Robin as Regina's bottom lip catches between her teeth, and before she can even ask the question, Mal grins. "We can use butter or lard."

"Butter," Regina says. "Lard just sounds… gross."

"It'll taste better with lard."

"I won't eat it."

"Yes, you will," Robin teases. "You can't resist apple-anything."

Regina's eyes roll, but she concedes again, watching as Mal greases up the glass baking dish. "Okay, then what?"

"Mix the flour and yeast," Mal instructs, holding out a measuring cup. "That part is easy. You can do it."

"Okay," she murmurs, taking the cup and pulling open the sack of flour, and when she does a little white cloud puffs out the top, leaving a white dust over her face. Regina's eyes narrow as both she and Robin try in vain not to laugh, and when Regina's shoulders square, she scoops out the flour, her eyes shifting to the cookbook in front of her. "Okay, that's a cup."

Mal grins as Regina watches her add the yeast, and then they set the bowl next to the greased baking dish. She heats the milk and shows Regina how to add in the sugar and butter, slowly mixing as the substance thickens. Grabbing a kitchen towel, she pulls the saucepan from the heat and instructs Regina to grab the bowl of flour and yeast, and slowly, she pours.

"That looks… incredibly unappetizing," Regina says, scrunching her nose as a little grin pulls onto her lips. "As most of my culinary experiments do."

"It's not done."

"Yeah," Mal says, grabbing a wooden spoon. "We have to mix it until it's smooth."

"Okay, so I just… stir it?"

"Nope," Mal says, shaking her head as she holds the spoon out across the counter. "You have him do it. Put those arms to use."

At that Regina giggles and she watches as Robin accepts the spoon and bowl, and as he folds the flour into the milk and sugar, he looks up, watching as they watching him. "I feel like you'd rather I do this shirtless."

"Mm…"

"We would."

Robin's eyes roll as he shakes his head, and Regina pouts a bit when he doesn't follow through, instead turing his attention to mixing up the batter.

"While he does that, you're going to peel and core the apples. I'm pretty sure you can manage that."

Regina nods, grabbing a knife and slowly peeling the skin from the apples. A grin edges onto her lips as she looks between them–both working diligently. Rain is tapping on the roof and she can feel the warmth of the oven on the back of her legs. Summer's winding down with fall only a few days away–and she can't help but think that this is the beginning of the end, that from now on, everything they do will be a part of a series of lasts.

She pushes away the thought of that, and instead focuses on making the crumble top. She nudges Regina's arm and Regina watches as she measures out the oats and a cup of almonds. She lays them out on parchment, then puts another layer of parchment on top of it, grinning as Regina's brow furrows inquisitively–and a grin edges onto Regina's lips as she watches her roll a rolling pin over it, crushing the oats and almonds.

"That looks cathartic."

"It is," Mal tells her. "That's how I got into baking."

"Oh?"

She nods, looking up to see that Robin is also listening. "When I was a teenager, we had this cook who… liked me more than her kitchen maid."

Robin blinks. "I… didn't know chefs had maids."

"Yeah, it's like… someone who helps out in the kitchen, does the grunt work." 

Still, he looks stunned. "Your servants have servants."

"Well, my family's cook had a plucky fourteen year old who quickly realized her mother didn't even know where the kitchen was–"

"Making it an ideal hiding spot," Regina explains for her.

"Yes," she nods. "Whenever I did something my mother would disapprove of–which was everything–"

"Relatable," Regina murmurs underneath her breath.

"So, whenever I wanted to pound my fists into something–"

"You pounded them into dough."

She nods. "And the outcome was much more rewarding than beating up on my pillows."

She watches as Robin and Regina exchange glances–and she sighs, her shoulders slumping forward as her eyes momentarily press closed. She didn't mean to make this a sad thing–it was supposed to be a fun way to spend the afternoon.

"Okay," she murmurs, drawing in a long and deep breath. "I'm going to mix this with brown sugar, you keep peeling those apples."

'I'll slice," Robin says, rounding the counter and coming to stand beside Regina as he keeps an eye on her–and as she reaches for the container of brown sugar, she sees them exchange a worried look.

She ignores it, though, dumping the oats and almonds into a bowl. She mixes in the brown sugar, taking longer to do it than necessary–and by the time she looks up, both Robin and Regina are waiting for her. Clearing her throat, she forces a smile–and when Regina's hand presses gently to the small of her back, she feels her smile warm.

"Next, we're going to put the apples into the batter." She grins as Regina reaches across the counter for the batter that Robin mixed up, and Robin helps her scoop the apple slices into it–and instinctively, Regina reaches for a clean spatula to mix them, earning a grin and a pat on the back from Robin. "So this is the best part," Mal begins, pushing the brown sugar toward Regina and grabbing a little jar of ground cinnamon. "I think we should double up on the cinna–"

"Won't it be too spicy?"

"It's just cinnamon. It's not, like… cayenne pepper or something."

Regina's nose scrunches. "Cinnamon can be spicy."

Mal blinks as she looks between them. "Aren't you Puerto Rican?"

"Half," Reigna nods biting down on her lip. "But we really never… had Puerto Rican food when I was growing up. I'm not… really used to spicy things."

"That…. is just so wrong."

Regina shrugs. "My mother was… always… apprehensive about…"

"Your mother sounds like mine," Mal scoffs, shaking her head. "So, your dad–"

"Never pushed it. He didn't like to… rock the boat."

Mal feels her lips part. "Puerto Rico is gorgeous and–" She grins as she looks to Robin. "You should take her. For your fifth wedding anniversary, or something. You–" Her voice halts and her smile fades, and once again her chest tightens.

"Mal?" Regina murmurs, reaching out and touching her fingers to her elbow.

"You okay?" Robin asks, his brow furrowing with concern.

She nods as her jaw tightens, silently cursing the tears that well up in her eyes as her lungs constrict. She hates this–she hates when this happens, and lately, its been happening all too frequently.

"I'm fine," she tells them, trying to keep her voice even and aloof as if to brush off the sudden rush of emotion she'd felt. Her eyes press closed momentarily and as they do, tears flood into them and she realizes how flimsy her attempt at reassurance was. The more she tries to fight it the more her chest aches–and when she opens her eyes, just to blink, tears pour out from them, and stream down her cheek.

"I'm sorry–"

"Don't apologize."

"My baking–really, any sort of cooking–attempts could make anyone cry," Regina says, a little grin tugging on to her lips in an attempt to cheer her. "It's–"

"It's not that," she sighs. "I just… it's stupid."

"I'm sure it's not," Robin tells her, his voice soft and calm–and somehow, that just makes it worse.

For too long, she's allowed this to go on–taken solace in it and found comfort in it. She loves them–more than she'd ever loved anyone–and it still takes her by surprise whenever they return that sentiment. For the first time in her life, she's felt like she had a place where she belonged, people she belonged with, and a place that felt like home. But she knew–and so did they–that this wouldn't last forever. For a while, she'd been able to ignore that, but now as time begins to wind down, it becomes harder and harder to do–and what lays in her future seemed all the more bleak.

Of course, she doesn't want them to be miserable without her; in fact, it is quite the contrary. But it hurts to think of them building a life without her, to think that at some point, she'd be nothing more than a memory to them.

"I just… I don't… I don't want to marry Stefan," she says, in burst that surprises even her. "I don't want to marry him. I don't want to spend the rest of my life… following him around like a shadow, walking on eggshells and feeling like… like I'm in the way."

Regina's eyes press closed, and Robin turns away, grabbing a glass and turning on the tap. He fills the glass as Regina links her arm around her waist, hugging her into her side as she rubs her back.

"Come on," she murmurs as Robin turns back to them. "Let's go sit down for a few minutes."

Mal manages a nod, letting Regina lead her into the living room as Robin trails behind them. They settle on the couch with her in the center and when she looks between them, they look so empathetic and sincere.

"You realize, there's a simple solution to that," Robin murmurs, nudging the glass of water into her hand as Regina stokes her fingers through her hair. "You don't have to marry him."

"I do."

"Mal–"

"My parents would never forgive me if I didn't."

Regina's eyes narrow. "Did I ever tell you that I was engaged once before Robin?"

Mal shakes her head. "No. I… I don't think so."

"My mother picked him out," she says. "His name was Kingston and–" She sighs. "He was old enough to be my father, but incredibly wealthy and… and I decided to go to college instead of getting married." She grins. "I informed my mother two days before the wedding."

"Regina, you haven't had a civil conversation with your mother–"

"Since I could speak."

"I think the point is that you have options, Mal. They might be uncomfortable, but–"

"It's not about the money," she cuts in, looking to Robin. "I just… for once, I want my father to look at me and be proud. I've been such a disappointment." She takes a sip of the water and draws in a breath. "If I don't marry Stefan, my father loses everything he worked for. He loses it because of me."

"Mal, that's–"

"That's just how it is."

"You don't know that," Robin murmurs. "He might–"

"He still hasn't gotten over the fact that I was born a girl."

"Well, that's just asinine," Regina scoffs. "He–"

"If I don't marry, the bloodline dies out and–"

"That's not your responsibility."

"Isn't it?" she asks, looking to Robin. "Isn't it my responsibility as his only child?" A little grin tugs up onto her lips and she forces it into a smile that she can tell doesn't convince either of them. "But there is a silver lining."

"Is there?"

"I don't see one."

Mal nods. "I'll get to be a mom." 

"Y-you want kids?" Regina asks, her face softening. "I didn't know that."

She shrugs. "It's… not really something you talk about when you're… having an affair."

"Mal–"

Drawing in a breath, she shakes her head. "I think that'll make me happy though–having kids, getting to take care of them and getting to love them and… and teaching them things." She nods, sniffling back her tears. "Watching them grow into people that I'm proud of and… and showing them that at every chance."

She watches as Robin looks to Regina–and again, she ignores the way they're looking at each other, not wanting either of them to feel forced into saying something they'll only regret later on.

"Come on," she says, rising up and setting the water down onto a coaster on the coffee table before turning back to them, this time smiling a bit more sincerely as she reaches for their hands. "We have an apple turnover to make–and quite frankly, I can't wait to eat it."

They both let her tug them up, not saying anything as she leads them back to the kitchen and as she watches Regina tentatively reach for the cinnamon and brown sugar as Robin consults the recipe to see what he should do next, she decides that, for just a little longer, she can pretend.

Belle smiles at them, her brows arching slightly as she watches Robin step off of the elevator behind her–and for just a few minutes, as Belle offers to get them coffee and makes small talk with them, it feels almost like it used to. Then as Belle disappears into the small kitchenette at the back of the office, she looks back at Robin, she can't help but think how wrong it feels.

Maybe it's because of the nostalgia, remembering how they used to be when Mal was a regular part of their lives, or maybe enough time has passed for her to understand this particular job was never the one he wanted.

When they were in law school, he was going to change the world. Then life happened. They graduated and Mal was gone, they spent a little time drifting and then suddenly they eloped. Out of law school, she'd struggled to find work and Robin found his dream job in a firm that practiced environmental law–and a job that paid him in coffee, pats on the back, and good feelings. Her own situation was further complicated when she got pregnant and she went from courtesy interviews to nothing at all; then, her mother died and her father turned over her inheritance early, but with conditions.

They'd bought a house and opened up a law firm together and had a few lucky breaks that were followed by sizable settlements–and then, that was that.

And for awhile, it was what they needed–but she realizes now, it was never something he'd be happy doing forever, and now when she considers it, she wasn't sure it's what she wants either.

On her desk, she finds a phone number and an address for Judge Hopper, and beside it, a list of call numbers for microfilm and a note that explaining these specific spools and reproductions of news stories that mentioned the break-in that Stefan claimed happened–something she'd mentioned in passing when Belle called to check in the evening after she'd dropped off Mal's medical records.

"She deserves a raise," Regina says, looking up at Robin. "This is… incredible."

"I believe she earned that when she allowed me to take her out on a date."

"So a raise and an incredible Christmas gift. Got it." Robin chuckles, sitting back on the couch near the window, watching as she picks up the phone. "I guess… there's no point in waiting to call."

Robin shakes his head. "The sooner the better."

She nods as she lifts the phone from the cradle, her stomach fluttering as she drags her finger though the dial. Her breath hitches in her throat as the operator attempts to connect the call–and then, as the operator tells her that the line isn't connecting, she feels her heart sink. She double checks the number and the operator tells her it's correct, the recipient on the other end just isn't picking up.

"It's only eight-thirty."

Regina's eyes roll. "Doesn't he understand that I have something urgent to discuss?"

"I'm sure that if he knew, he'd rush to answer." She watches a smirk edge onto his lips, his blue eyes sparkling in a way that always makes her feel a bit more comfortable when she's feeling antsy. "He always had a thing for you."

"He did not."

"Did, too," he teases. "How else did you get that research job?" Her eyes roll dramatically. "Because it certainly couldn't have been because of your sheer brilliance."

"No, it couldn't possible have been that I'd earned it."

"Not a chance."

She laughs as he holds out his hand to her and when she crosses the office to where he sits, he tugs her down beside him, stretching his arm loosely around her shoulders. "What now?"

"I don't know."

"Call back in an hour."

"I could…"

"You will."

She laughs. "I might not make it that long. I'm impatient."

"I know, and I love that about you."

She grins as he presses a quick kiss to her cheek–and then, drawing in a short breath, her grin fades and her expression grows serious. "How are you?"

"I… I'm… fine," he says, his eyes narrowing. "I don't–"

"This weekend you found out you almost had a daughter."

"Ah–"

"That had to have affected you. It affected me."

He nods and focuses down on his lap, his own grin fading away and the playfulness of a moment before gone. "I… I just keep thinking that… that our boys should've had a sister, and how… how different our lives would've been if… if Mal stayed and had the baby."

Regina nods. "Things would have been different."

"I… I don't really feel a loss, though, not the way Mal does. I just… I'm still trying to wrap my head around it."

"It's a lot to process."

Nodding, he looks back at her. "I just have this… this uneasiness about it, and–" He stops, momentarily letting his eyes sink closed. "And I think about what Stefan did–to her and to the baby she was carrying and I just–"

"Can't stop thinking about what it'd been like to wrap your hands around his neck and–"

"Yeah–"

"I feel like over the last couple of months, I've developed a murderous streak."

Robin nods. "I didn't know I could feel this much hate."

For a moment, she doesn't reply, allowing herself to get lost in thought, trying to unjumble the thoughts that have been spinning around in her head for the past few days.

"Her family would've…"

"Flipped out?" he supplies, cocking a brow as she looks back to him. "I know. They'd have disinherited her for something like that… for just a scandal."

"Or they'd have sent her away to have the baby and force her to give her up." She pauses and shrugs. "That's what my mother nearly did with me."

"She didn't though."

"Because my father offered to marry her."

Robin nods, considering it for a moment–and not quite connecting the dots. "She would have had a place with us, though–she and the baby."

"Of course they would have."

"Maybe that would've been for the best. It'd have hurt, but cutting ties with them would have freed her, allowed her to be happy."

"That's all she wanted–to be happy, to have a place where she belonged. It was never about the money or the power or social status for her. It was just… about being accepted, about being a part of something"

"Yeah–

"I… I meant what I told Mal the other day," she says, her voice soft and a bit tentative. "I would have wanted that baby. I'd have loved her."

He grins and nods. "Me, too."

"Would… would you have done the honorable thing?"

Robin blinks. "What do you mean?"

Regina reaches for the hand that's draped over her shoulders, and presses her lips to the back of it. "I'm asking if you'd have married her."

"Married her–"

"Yes," she says simply. "It wouldn't have changed anything between us. She and I would have just… switched places."

"I… I don't know," he admits. "Maybe."

"I mean it. It wouldn't have changed anything between you and me."

"Over the last couple of days, I've… I've thought about that–about how I'd have reacted, what it'd have meant for Mal, for our daughter–" She can't help but notice the sad little grin that tugs at the corner of his mouth as he says the word daughter. "It have been easier on them if I'd married her."

Regina nods–she was always the independent one, the one on a career path, the one who could support herself, and it'd have made sense, given the situation. "It might've finally made her see herself as an equal part of the relationship. She always saw us as the couple and herself as… the extra one."

"I know," he sighs, sighing. "I have considered that–in my hypothetical, alternate version of the past."

"I think I'd have wanted you to." He blinks, looking over at her, not looking at all surprised. "It'd be against everything you are not to have married her, given the situation and… and we'd have been okay." She grins. "As odd as it might sound, I think I might've loved you a bit more for it."

"She always wanted kids."

"I know," Regina murmurs. "She used to say that was the silver lining of marrying Stefan."

"I… I never thought she'd actually go through with it."

"With marrying him?"

"I thought… I thought he and Rose would run off together, and… and then she'd have been ours."

"Me, too," she admits. "Whenever I thought of our future and what our lives would be like later on, she was… she was always there with us."

"Yeah… same," he murmurs softly, momentarily losing himself in thought.

She kisses the back of his hand again and drops her head to his shoulder–and before either of them can continue, Belle comes in with their coffee. She sets the cups down on the little coffee table in front of them, before scurrying out and closing the door, leaving them alone again.

"I don't want go to my office," Robin says, shifting the subject. "But I should go, especially now that Gold and I can bond over my illicit affair with my wife's assistant."

Regina laughs. "You're such a cad."

"I'm not sure why, but he seemed to enjoy thinking I was a sleazeball."

"Well, we do gravitate towards those who are like ourselves."

Sighing, he leans forward and reaches for the mug of coffee, then leans back. "But not till I've had my coffee."

"It's only right that you do," she says, giggling softly as she reaches for her own mug. "After all, your other girlfriend made it for you."

His eyes narrow. "I do sound like a cad."

"You're not, though," she tells him. "And I get to be the one who has the final say on that."

"Do you?"

She nods. "It comes with the territory of being your wife."

"Ah–of course."

"It was in the vows."

"I do remember that," he teases. "I do remember promising to love you and cherish you, and let you be the sole decider of when my behavior crossed into shitty territory."

"Like I said," she murmurs, gigging over the rim over her mug as she takes a short little sip of the coffee. "It was in the vows."

From there, they move on to lighter topics–and though her own thoughts keep circling back to Mal and the baby she lost at her cruel husbands hand, she doesn't bring it up again. She can tell that Robin's thoughts keep drifting there too–each time his jaw tightens and his eyes darken–but there's only so much they can talk about it. Eventually, he finishes his coffee, then has a second cup, and when that second is done, he reluctantly gets up to leave.

He kisses her goodbye and then waves to Belle, and as the elevator doors closed, she turns back to her office, once more attempting to call Judge Hopper and once more finding him unavailable to take her call. This time, though, she leaves a message with his secretary, then as she returns the phone to its cradle, she sighs and falls back into her chair.

"No luck?"

Looking up at Belle, she shakes her head. "Not yet."

"He'll answer."

"I hope so–and soon. I'm not sure my nervous can take this much longer."

Belle's eyes narrow and her lip catches between her teeth. "I'm sure this is hard on you… watching as this happens to someone you love."

A little grin edges onto Regina's lips as she nods. "Thank you for… well, everything," she says, looking down at her desk.

"I've gotten good at staying one step ahead of you."

Regina grins. "I really can't tell you how appreciative I am for that."

"And… I know that… that this is… near and dear to you."

"It is," Regina agrees, nodding. "She is." For a moment, she hesitates, watching the way Belle shifts and thinking of how sweet she was the other day. "I imagine this whole thing with me and Robin, and Mal, has been… a little hard for your to wrap your head around, and I appreciate–"

"Not really," Belle says easily. "You and Robin have always been good to me, and it's not my place to judge your marriage or your feelings or… what you decide to do about them." A little laugh rises up from her. "You're practically paying my way through law school and–"

"It's not like you're not working for it."

"I know, but–"

"And you do far more than you're paid to."

"I like it," Belle says, shrugging. "I like the job and you and Robin, and… I like being here."

"I'm glad," Regina tells her, remembering why she'd hired her, remembering how she was the only woman who applied for the job and how much of herself she saw in her. "Well, nonetheless, I appreciate you feeling that way. The last time someone found out about Mal and who she was to us, it… didn't go well." She pauses, the memory of John walking in on them flickering in her memory. "It was… refreshing to have someone find out and not be a complete ass about it."

"I generally try to avoid coming off that way," she replies, laughing softy. "And, I don't know her very well, but she seems…" Her voice trails off and a shy little grin tugs across her lips. "Well, it's obvious that she means a lot to you–to both of you, and if she matters to you she matters to me."

"Thank you, that–"

"You don't have to thank me," Belle cuts in. "I've spent my whole life fearing that people were going to hate me for… well… for something I couldn't control, something that just made me who I am. I'd never do that to someone else."

Feeling a rush of emotion–a rush of gratitude–Regina nods. "Did you get your homework done?

"Nearly."

"And it's due–"

"Wednesday."

"So, you sacrifice your own time and obligations–"

"Well I wouldn't say–"

"Take the day, and get that done. You can go home, you can stay here, and if you need help or just someone to listen or give an opinion, let me know. I'd be happy to help."

Belle nods, unnecessarily thanking her again, and she watches as Belle sits back at her desk, pulling out an overstuffed binder and putting on her glasses. She smiles a bit as she watches her–and she has a fleeting thought that she hopes that no matter what she and Robin decide to do, Belle will follow.

She doesn't linger on that, though; instead, she picks up the phone and once more dials Archie's number–and this time, instead of telling her the line is not responding, the operator connects the call.

She holds her breath as it rings, her stomach churning–and then, her once-favorite professor's voice says a soft hello.

It takes her a second to find her voice–and she's relieved that he remembers her. For a few minutes, they make small talk as he asks if it's still Mills and she explains that it is, though she did marry Robin. He seems to like that, asking about any children, and she tells him a little bit about both of her boys, never missing an opportunity to gush–and then, he tells her though her call is a pleasant surprise, he knows there must be a reason and she admits that there is.

Drawing in a breath, she sits back in her chair and explains the situation, explaining what she and Robin suspect–and when she mentions Gold's name, Archie scoffs and says he knows a thing or two about Robert Gold. He quickly tells a story about how he knew Gold in law school, and he and the others in their cohort always envisioned him working for the mafia, that he'd never been one to play by the rules unless, of course, he could manipulate them to his benefit.

"So, what do I do?" she asks, her voice meek and sounding so much like the law student she used to be, and not at all comforted by her former mentor's admission. "What if–"

"Get proof–something solid."

"Right–"

"As of now, everything you have could be easily refuted–especially by someone like Gold."

"I… I think we can do that," she tells him. "Or, Robin can."

"You said he's working for him."

"Yes–"

"That's quite a predicament."

"I know," Regina sighs, hoping Judge Hopper isn't gearing up for a lecture.

"Can we meet up? Perhaps at my house, to talk about this in more detail?"

"Of course," she replies, breathing out a sigh of relief. "Do you still–"

"Yes, yes, the same place," he tells her. "You can let Robin know I won't send him out into the garden to pick basil for pasta sauce this time."

At that, she laughs, remembering the last time they were there for a dinner just before graduation–and Robin swore up and down he'd been sent away just so the professor could have a little alone time with her. Of course, that hadn't been the case, at all–nor was it an argument that made sense, given the fact that Regina spent most of her afternoons in Archie's office alone with him–but he'd been adamant.

She and Archie settle a day and time, and she jots it down with a few other notes–and when the she hangs up the phone, she feels a soft wave of relief wash over her.

Nothing's settled and nothing's really changed, but the fact that Archie–someone who sits on the state's Bar Association, and someone who's opinion she's always valued–didn't blow her off, and seemed to share her suspicion made her feel better, and made her believe that there really was a possibility Mal wouldn't have to go through a trial, after all.

And for right now, she decides she needs to hang onto that.

A nervous giggle escapes Regina as she stands on top of the coffee table in the middle of the living room in her bra and a slip. Mal and Robin are there with her, sitting on the couch and both trying unsuccessfully not to oogle her, as Granny rummages through her sewing box.

Her shoulders square as she looks away from them, trying to ignore them and wishing more than anything she were wearing a different bra–one that wasn't so sheer. But, of course, she hadn't the time or the foresight to think of that. That morning, just after she'd put some delicates into the sink to soak, Granny knocked on the door, announcing that her daughter–who'd she'd been trying to pin down to take the diner over for a day–had dropped by on a whim, ready to help–and that meant, she finally had time to fit her for a dress.

Mal agreed that she could take over laundry duties, and it'd been settled–and now, she stood there, regretting the whole thing.

She and Mal had picked out a pattern weeks ago and she'd fallen in love with the picture on the front of it–and that almost made up for her annoyance when her advisor informed her that the university had a policy that while men merely needed to wear black slacks and whatever they chose on top, girls must wear a white dress to graduation. She'd wanted to protest–from being called a girl instead of a woman to the unfair dress code being pushed onto her to the notion that female graduates should look young and viginal rather than adult and accomplished–but when she'd crossed her arms over her chest and insisted she just wouldn't walk in the ceremony, Robin wouldn't hear of it.

He'd put up a fuss about how she'd earned the right to walk, that the ceremony was part of the fun of it–and Mal took his side. Robin threatened to drag her across the stage, if he needed to, and Mal offered to take her shopping–and though she was always reluctant to give up a fight, even when she was losing, she had to admit that Robin had a point and Mal's suggestion sounded fun.

But finding a white dress that met the university's requirements and her own was more difficult than it should have been–and finding one in her price range was nearly impossible. Everything she found was either something you'd wear to a picnic or a your wedding, and nothing in between–and when Mal mentioned that Granny had offered to make her a dress, she'd worried about it being too plain and with puff sleeves like the dresses her mother had made for her when she was a child. But they'd found several modern patterns and yards and yards of pretty fabric, and she'd fallen in love with a shimmery white chiffon and a delicate lace–and Granny assured her that she could make the dress look better than the picture on the front.

Now, though, doubt was seeping back in.

Rolls of chiffon sat propped up in an armchair and Granny had ironed out the lace so it was nice and flat. She watches as Granny drapes a measuring tape around her neck, and lifts out a little tomato cushion that was stuck with what happened to be a thousand pins–and when Granny turned back to her, her stomach fluttered.

"Okay," Granny murmurs. "You're going to have to be still."

"That's almost impossible," Robin teases.

"She's never still," Mal agrees.

"Well, if she's not still, I'm going to stab her about two-hundred times with these pins." She grins as she looks up at her. "Consider yourself warned."

"Got it," Regina murmurs, her eyes narrowing at them. "I'm sure I can manage it."

She holds her breath as Granny starts to measure, making little comments about how small her waist is and how she'd kill to have had her figure thirty years ago. Mal giggles and agrees that Regina does have a nice figure, and she feels her cheeks flush as she shoots her a warning look.

Once the measurements are taken, she gets down from the table and puts on her robe, as Granny takes the fabric to the table and lays out the pattern. Mal follows her, watching curiously and asking a thousand questions about what she's doing and why she's doing it, and she can't help but notice the way Robin watches–looking so smitten as Mal helps Granny cut the fabric.

His arm slips around her waist and she leans back against him as his chin rests on her shoulder–and she can't help but think how nice it is, to have someone in the apartment with them and Mal and not have to offer an explanation. Of course, there are too many details missing to make the moment anything of real significance, and Granny doesn't have any reason to think Mal is anything more than her best friend. Nonetheless, it's a nice feeling, and she finds herself wondering if this is something they could get away with longterm–wondering if they could have friends and family over and not offer an explanation about Mal's presence, wondering if it'd be possible simply to not explain and just let people assume whatever it is they would assume. While that isn't ideal, it'd be better than what they have now–having her only when she could slip away and having her only in private, so rarely in public. She wonders if they worried too much and there is a part of her that doubts anyone pays as close attention to their interactions as they assume.

"Okay," Granny says. "I've got… the main pieces cut. You're a bit skinnier than the smallest size, so I'm going to have to pin it to you and fit it." She grins as she looks to Regina. "Oh, to have your problems…"

Regina laughs and Robin helps her up onto the coffee table.

"Mal, will you grab the back pieces?" Granny asks, looking around the room to ensure she has what she needs. "Oh, Robin, could you grab my pins? I left–" She nods as Robin jumps to grab the little tomato pin cushion. "Thank you."

Mal drapes the fabric over the back of the chair as Granny loops the cushion around her wrist and sticks a few in her mouth–and a smirk edges onto Mal's lips as she straightens herself up and rounds to the front of the coffee table, keeping a close eye on Granny as she tugs Regina's robe open, letting her eyes linger for longer than she should and again making her blush.

"Alright, I think I'm ready," Granny says as Mal steps back. "Are you?"

"I'm ready to not be standing here in my underwear."

At that, Granny scoffs. "If I looked like you, I'd always walk around in my underwear. I'd go to the market in 'em and to the post office and to the bakery." She laughs a little as she pins the first piece of fabric, then pinches it in at the waist. "And if you can't be comfortable here as you are now–in front of an old lady whose seen it all, your fiancé and your best friend, then–" she sighs." Then I've got terrible news for you about how you'll feel when you're my age and things you didn't know could sag are sagging."

She grins as she looks to Mal and Robin–her fiancé and her best friend, she thinks, that really is how it looks from the outside looking in.

"Mal, I need you to hold this," Granny says, nodding to a piece of fabric at Regina's hip.

"Not Robin?" Mal asks, slowly rising up as her eyes shift between Regina and Granny. "I–"

"You fingers are smaller," she says, reaching for her hand and placing it on Regina's hip. "I just want to make sure the sides are symmetrical before I start pinning and putting holes in this fabric."

A little giggle escapes her as Mal's hand presses to her hip–her stomach fluttering as she continues to consider the possibility that what they have between them doesn't have to end as Mal assumes, and if they could just convince her to break off her engagement, they could build a life together outside of the little apartment, that they could be happy, and what people didn't think to ask of them, they wouldn't have to tell.

A smile draws onto Regina's lips as she reaches the top of the stairs, watching as Mal crouches down at an odd angle, adjusting the camera lens just before she snaps a picture of something she can't quite see in Roland and Henry's bedroom.

"Hey you," she says as she nears, her smiling fading as Mal flinches, nearly jumping out of her skin as she whirls around with wide eyes and shaking hands.

"I'm sorry–"

"No, no, no," Regina cuts in, quickly crossing the room to her. "Don't apologize. You have no reason to apologize." She takes her free hand and gives it a little squeeze as her other hand comes up to cup her cheek.  
"It's okay."

"I should've asked–"

"Mal," Regina cuts in again. "You don't need permission to…" Her brow furrows as she looks around. "What are you doing, anyway?" she asks, a little chuckle rising into her voice. "It looks like you… cleaned."

She shrugs, looking down at the checkers board setup on a little table. "I was bored and…" Mal draws in a breath. "And the camera was… out on the desk and…"

"It's okay."

"I just… I noticed the photo albums and–"

"You don't have to explain. You're not hurting anything and… and Robin and I want you to feel comfortable here." Regina gives Mal's hand a squeeze and offers a soft smile "We want you to feel like… this is home."

"I'd rather it not," she admits. "Home never felt very nice."

"No, it didn't, did it?" Regina murmurs as she frowns, watching as Mal draws in a deep breath and slowly releases it–and she feels an uncomfortable stirring in her stomach as she wonders how many times over the years something like this has happened. Of course, nothing's actually happened, but it was clear that it triggered something in Mal–an involuntary and learned response to being caught. It didn't matter what she was doing, it didn't matter that she'd been caught doing something completely innocent. What mattered was that she was caught. There was fear in her eyes and uncertainty in her voice, and it was like she was just waiting for a consequence to come crashing down on her.

Mal's cheeks flush a little, but she doesn't say anything–and as she looks away, Regina can't help but notice that she looks embarrassed, as if she realizes her reaction was over-the-top and a little too extreme.

"Come here," Regina says, giving her hand a little tug as she leads her out of the boys' room and into the at-home office across the hall. "Sit with me."

Regina lets go of her hand and sits down on one side of the leather loveseat, noticing the open photo album on the coffee table–and noticing the picture that it's open to. A smile pulls onto her lips as she looks down at a picture of her sons two years younger and smiling. Henry's missing his two front teeth and Roland has the old, worn teddy bear tucked underneath his arm–and between them is the checkers board that Mal was photographing.

"Roland used to take that bear everywhere," Regina says, looking up from the album. "His name is Barry, and Robin bought him in the hospital gift shop the day Roland was born." She grins, a little laugh escaping her as she momentarily glances back down. "It was the same size as Roland."

"I'll bet Roland was cuter, though."

Regina grins as she looks back to Mal. "He was."

Regina holds out her hand as Mal crosses the room, and as soon as she's in reach, she tugs her down beside her and wraps her arm around her.

"So, you were taking pictures," Regina begins, looking over at her. "What of?"

"The checkers board, obviously," Mal says. "And… some other things. A bowl of fruit, your dressing table in the bedroom, shoes…"

"Shoes?"

"A pair of Henry's sneakers next to a pair of Roland's," she tells her, her voice a bit sheepish. "I thought it'd be cute."

"It sounds cute. I can't wait to see them."

"Oh, I–"

"Do you still develop your own pictures."

She nods. "Mostly, though it's been a long time since I've taken anything for fun."

"Robin and I don't take enough pictures," Regina decides, her eyes shifting to the open album on her lap. "That's why we need you."

"Regina, you've got a whole shelf of albums and–"

She shakes her head and points to the picture of Roland and Henry playing checkers. "This is supposed to be Christmas morning."

"It looks like it is," Mal says. "There's wrapping paper and–"

"No," Regina sighs. "That was taken two days later."

"Why?"

"Robin and I forgot," she sighs. "It was only ten after six when they got up, and we were both exhausted and–" Her voice halts as she looks back at Mal. "It's insane how fast they move."

"Sometimes it's better to be in the moment, you know? Not worried about what you'll remember or how you'll feel about it all when it's done… just… enjoying things for what they are when they're most important." Regina watches as she leans in a little and flips to the front of the album. "You wore the dress."

Regina nods, grinning as she looks down at photograph of her and Robin, minutes after they were married. "It was the only white one I owned."

"And you said you'd never wear it again."

"I was obviously wrong."

A little laugh escapes Mal as her brow arches, but she doesn't say anything, instead, she looks back to the picture. "You really eloped."

"We did."

"You mother must have been furious."

"Oh, she was," Regina nods. "It was wonderful."

Mal laughs, shaking her head as her fingers slip underneath a few of the pages, and when she flips a few pages over, she looks up. "And you two really went to Puerto Rico."

"We did," Regina nods, feeling a rush of sadness–that'd been Mal's idea and she should have been there.

"This would have been perfect in color."

"It'd have been perfect if you'd been in it." She feels a little grin pull onto her lips as she looks over at Mal. "I… can't even begin to imagine all of the amazing shots you'd have gotten. Everything was so beautiful there."

"Yeah," Mal murmurs, her eyes shifting to another picture, this time of Robin and Regina posed for a picture at a little outdoor deli. "I'm sure."

Biting down on her lip, Regina looks down at the picture. It'd been her suggestion to go to Puerto Rico for their fifth anniversary–and though they both understood why she'd suggested that particular destination, they didn't talk about it. They said the boys were finally old enough to be left with John and Marian. They said they were going because Regina's grandparents immigrated from there; and they said they were going because they didn't get a honeymoon–but what they didn't say is they were going for the connection to Mal.

They had a habit of doing that, of doing things that were a tribute to her–and though they never discussed it, they both knew.

All too often on that trip one of them would fall silent, and the other would pretend not to notice–and each and every time it happened, they were caught up in memories of Mal. Anything triggered it–when a family stopped to take a picture, when they smelled the cinnamon in a bowl of arroz con dulce they were splitting a little cafe, or a million other things. It was odd that she was so present there, that their memories of her felt stronger despite never having been there with her–and it was likely due to the fantasy they'd both been caught up in and the sentiment that this should have been a milestone marker that she should have been a part of.

"We should go."

"What?"

"We should go when all of this blows over," Regina says somewhat abruptly as she looks back to Mal, watching as her brow furrows. "Me and Robin, you and the boys. It'd be such fun."

Mal's brow arches skeptically–and her eyes fall to her lap. "And the three of us would… what? Sleep in one bed while your children slept in the other?"

"Yeah–well–realistically, you and I would probably take Roland in one bed since he's smaller, and Robin would take Henry."

"That sounds–" Mal's voice halts and she shakes her head.

"What?"

"You make it seem like it'd be so normal."

"It would–"

"Regina–"

"It'd be our normal." A little grin pulls onto her lips as she reaches for Mal's hand. "And you've more than earned a little vacation."

At that, she scoffs. "Who knows, maybe a judge and jury of my peers will send me on a vacation to the state penitentiary for the rest of my life."

"Well, about that…"

"What about it?" she asks, her voice small. "Has, um… has something changed or–"

"Well, yes… or… maybe. It might have."

"Oh, well… don't keep me in suspense," she says, shifting as she looks away, almost as though bracing herself for the worst.

"I… um… I don't know that there's going to be a trial."

Mal looks back to her and it's obvious she doesn't understand. "What… does that mean?" she asks, her voice small and tentative. "Why not?"

"This is a good thing… or it could be."

"I… I'm not following," Mal says, still looking unsettled as she bites down on her lips. "How–

Robin's voice interrupts them as he comes into the house, calling for them as he wanders from the foyer to the other downstairs rooms of the house, and as Regina calls to him, telling him that she and Mal are upstairs, she can see that Mal's jaw is starting to tremble.

"It's okay," she whispers. "I mean it, this could be really, really good for us."

She can hear Robin coming up the stairs and as he turns into the office, his lips part as if he's about to say something–and then as his eyes fall to Mal, his mouth closes and he looks quizzically to Regina.

"I was just about to tell Mal that there's a chance that this whole thing might not go to trial."

"Ah–"

"There's… a very strong possibility that Gold is pushing me to take this to trial because he's being paid to."

Mal blinks. "Well, he is the District Attorney and I did kill someone. Of course he's being paid to."

Regina sighs, shaking her head. "Mal–"

"I think Leopold Perrault is paying him and–"

"That sounds like Leo," she says, her voice completely void of surprise. "He and Stefan own… judges and lawyers and politicians and…"

Regina nods as Mal's voice fades. People like Stefan and Leopold Perrault were always buying their way out of things–they didn't leave anything to chance, and Mal would have been well aware of that. She'd have been trapped and never been able to trust anyone enough to ask for help. Her eyes press closed as she thinks back to that day in her office–the day Mal showed up in need of a lawyer–and she remembers the way she'd quietly admitted she couldn't trust him. She hadn't asked her to elaborate–she hadn't had a reason to–and now, she wishes she had and she wonders if it'd have saved them all a lot of heartache.

"But if the District Attorney is accepting money in exchange for a conviction–"

"We'd have to be able to prove it," Robin says as his eyes shift to Mal. "And I think I can."

"Really?" she asks, her voice cracking as she looks between them. "There's proof?"

"There is," Robin nods. "I just… have to connect the dots."

"And if they can't–"

"They can," Regina cuts in. "They do."

"I just… need to get my hands on it."

Mal looks down at her hands in her lap. "There's always a catch."

"It's not a catch–"

"And Gold seems to trust me a bit more now that he thinks I'm having an affair. Maybe I can get him drunk and… I don't know… offer to do his taxes or something."

Mal's eyes widen as she looks back up. "What?"

"With Belle."

"What?" she asks again, her eyes this time shifting to Regina. "Why does his boss think he's having an affair with your secretary."

A little laugh bubbles up from Regina. "He… told him that he was when Gold caught them on a fake date."

Mal's brows arch as she looks away, staring at the camera on the coffee table in front of them. "This is… giving me a slight headache."

"I think it's going to work out," Regina says, looking to Robin as she reaches for Mal's hand. "And before you tell me that it's just wishful thinking, the head of the State Bar Association–"

"Archie Hopper," Robin says, rolling his eyes as a smirk edges onto his lips. "You remember, the professor who had the hots for her."

"He did not," she scoffs, scowling as Mal giggles. "I know everyone thought that–"

"No, everyone thought you got that research job because–"

"I didn't and you know that's not why I got that job."

"Oh, I do know that," Robin says, nodding as he looks between them. "But he absolutely had a thing for you. They can be seperate things."

Regina's eyes narrow and her arms cross over her chest. "I was always pretty sure that he's gay."

"He could have been bisexual."

Regina's eyes roll, as she looks to Mal. "The point of this is… I talked to him today and he thinks Robin and I are onto something. Based on what we already know, he thinks we're right and he wants to meet with us."

"Does he?"

Nodding, Regina's eyes shift back to Robin. "I said we would. It's all set up. We're having dinner at his house."

"Dinner," Robin scoffs. "Maybe he'll send me out to the yard to pick weeds again."

"It was basil."

"He just wanted to be alone with you."

Regina's eyes roll and she looks to Mal. "We'll make a day of it–all three of us."

At that, Mal grins. "Does he still live–"

"He does."

"I loved that little town."

"We did, too," Robin admits. "I hated to leave it."

"But visiting is nice."

"Did you do that often?" Mal asks, looking between them. "Do you still… visit anyone there?"

"Granny," Robin says. "We usually see her a few times a year–holidays, usually"

"When we're not with my dad," Regina adds. "Which is often because he's never around these days."

"Ah–" Mal murmurs, her voice a bit wistful. "That… that's nice. I'm glad you still get to see her, that you… were able to keep in touch." And then her face falls. "I shouldn't… I shouldn't go with you."

Robin's brow furrows. "Mal, she'd love to see you."

"It's… not that…" She sighs, rolling her eyes as she looks between them. "I just… don't think it's a good idea for people to… to see the three of us together."

"Why not?"

"Yeah," Regina murmurs. "Why would–"

"This whole thing about Leo possibly buying off prosecutors and probably judges, I…" Her eyes press closed and she sucks in a breath. "Stefan was going to expose us, he was going to ruin–"

"He's dead."

"I, of all people, know that," she says dryly. "But… it wouldn't have been hard, and Leo probably knows and–"

"I don't care," Regina cuts in, shaking her head as she gives her hand a squeeze. "I don't care who finds out."

"Regina, what… what were doing is… it's illegal."

"Again, I don't care."

"It doesn't make it wrong," Robin adds, his voice soft as his hand presses to her back, rubbing gently.

"That's… quite subjective, and I doubt very many would agree."

"I'm with Regina on this one," Robin tells her. "I don't care."

"But I do," Mal tells them, her voice small. "This whole thing could ruin your careers and–"

"Well, then it's a good thing we've landed an heiress." Robin laughs and Mal's eyes widen as she looks to her–and her heart nearly breaks when Mal doesn't smile. "Listen, I know that you and I being together as we are is… illegal, and the three of us being together comes uncomfortably close to it. But… those laws are barely enforced. We aren't hurting anyone–you aren't hurting anyone–and I am done allowing you to sacrifice yourself because of what might happen or because someone might find out."

"I think most people are too caught up in themselves to even notice that anything… unconventional is going on here." Robin grins when Mal looks to him. "And you know, for what it's worth, Leo Perrault looked awfully scrawny. I'm pretty sure I could shut him up pretty quickly." Robin offers them each a self-satisfied grin as a soft chuckle escapes him. "He can't do any talking if his jaw is wired shut."

"Robin–"

"I'm serious, and–" His eyes fall to the camera. "I think I know how to get actual proof without risking Gold figuring things out." Grinning, he looks back up. "Do you still develop your own pictures?"

Mal nods. "When I can."

"And do you know how to set up a darkroom."

Again, Mal nods–and Regina smiles. "We have that little room next to the washer and dryer–"

"That would be perfect."

"Oh, I don't need a whole room. I can just use–"

"No, if we're going to build a darkroom, we should do it right."

"That… sounds permanent," her voice cracking as she swallows hard, likely trying to push down her tears.

Regina grins and once more, gives her hand a little squeeze. "That's the idea."

Rising up from the arm of the couch, Robin holds out his hands, offering one to each of them. He smiles softly and his eyes sparkle, and it gives Mal a moment to compose herself. "Why don't we talk about it more over dinner?" Regina takes his hand and then, a bit reluctantly, Mal does the same. He pulls them up and his arm slips around Mal's waist and his fingers lace down between hers as he starts to ask Mal all sorts of questions about what would be needed to create a darkroom–and then, it's her turn to fight back the tears because for the first time since Mal came back to them, it sounds like she's entertaining the idea of a future with them.

Regina watches as a smile edges onto Robin's lips as Mal turns her head on the pillow, turning to face him as she burrows into the down pillow and lets out a content little sigh.

It's well past midnight, and she's stretched out between them, her back still bare and her blonde hair fanned out over the pillow and across her shoulders–and though she'll have to leave just after sun-up, Regina can't help but feel glad that they got to have her for the night.

When they got home that evening, Mal was already there, and judging by the pot roast cooking in the oven, she'd been there for quite some time. The smell of the roast wafted through the air and there was an expensive bottle of wine that she'd clearly brought along with her–and as always when they came home to find her waiting for them, they both felt a little guilty for having made her wait, even though her visit was unannounced.

They found her in the shower–soapy haired and singing. Mal was momentarily started when Regina pulled back the curtain, but it hadn't lasted long. Before she could even apologize, Mal was laughing out–loud and infectious–as she flung a bit of foam soap at Regina, then grabbed ahold of her wrist to pull her into a kiss. She'd practically dragged her into the shower–clothes and all–before releasing her and telling her that dinner was nearly ready.

They'd left her to finish her shower, retreating back into the living room. Robin picked out a record to play. He settled on Sinatra as Regina set the table, lighting candles and dimming the lights–and when Mal came out in a silky, soft pink robe, she nearly forgot about the roast altogether.

Mal had insisted though, and the three of them sat down at the table together. They ate the pot roast and drank the cabernet sauvignon she'd brought to go with it, listening to Sinatra's low and relaxing voice as they talked–and never once did Mal explain why she was there. She did, however, mention that the wine was from one of her father's hotels–a hotel where her family believed she was staying for the night.

From there, one thing led to another, and it wasn't long before they were all tangled up in bed together.

As usual, Mal was first to fall asleep, lying stretched out between them.

"She's beautiful, isn't she?"

He nods. "Incredibly."

"I'm glad she surprised us tonight."

"I always am."

"I just wish she could stay."

Robin sighs and nods. "Me too."

"I don't want her to go in the morning."

"Maybe we can hide her keys," Robin suggests, smirking as he looks up at her. "She can't leave if she doesn't have her keys."

A little laugh escapes her. "We can't hold her hostage."

"Who said anything about being a hostage? I'm sure she'd love a reason to stay."

"Yeah," Regina murmurs back quietly. "I'm sure."

Even in the dark, she can see Robin's eyes narrow and for a moment, silence falls between them. "You're… not just talking about her leaving in the morning."

"No," Regina admits. "Not just then."

"I have been thinking about that," Robin tells her. "About… how one day she might not… be a part of our lives anymore."

"I don't understand why she can't be, why she feels like its temporary."

"Neither do I."

"She doesn't have to marry him, and even if she does, I don't see why that would change anything."

Regina sighs. She doesn't understand it either–and the longer the affair has gone on, the harder it's been to understand why it'd have to end. Even if Mal marries Stefan, neither were offering any pretense of love. It was merely a business arrangement. Their fathers–business partners who shared a tremendous amount of wealth between them–had set it up when they were children. There was no love to be lost between them, and for years now, they'd lived separate private lives. They went to functions together and publicly they were a couple, but it was all a façade and she couldn't quite wrap her head around why the double lives they lived couldn't continue if they wanted them to.

"I… don't really remember what it was like to be a couple. With just the two of us."

"I don't either," Robin murmurs.

"She just… fits so well with us."

"Because she belongs here. She belongs with us."

"And when we're not here…"

"She belongs wherever we are."

"We could make it work. I know we could."

"I think so, too."

"It wouldn't be ideal, but plenty of young couples have friends living with them, and once they have children, it's not unheard of to need help, especially if both of us mean to work and–"

"And there'd be no reason to suspect anything was odd or amiss."

"Yeah," she murmurs. "I hate that, though… that she has to be a secret."

"I know John finding out was a disaster, but–"

"I don't care what anyone else thinks, and I don't see why it's anyone's business other than ours."

"It's not."

"I don't want to share her–not with Stefan."

"I don't either," Robin admits. "And I don't quite understand why she can't just break off the engagement. It's not like she's ever shown an interest in the money."

"No, she hasn't, but it's… it's not about that. She's said as much." Looking up at Robin, Regina sighs. "She just wants to belong, to be accepted by them and… and for them to love her."

He swallows as he looks back to Mal, reaching out and tucking her hair behind her ear–and a little smile works its way onto Regina's lips as the back of his fingers linger over Mal's cheek. "She has that here, though. She has a place where she belongs, where she's loved and accepted. We could be her family. We are her family."

"I think she wants that," Regina says, her voice low and tentative. "I just… I think she's scared of–" She stops as Robin's fingers again comb through Mal's hair, drawing it away her from her face and shoulder. Robin's brow furrows as Regina's pushes Mal's hair completely out of the way, and her stomach flops uncomfortably as she examines what looks like a bruise on Mal's shoulder.

"What?"

"Was this here before?"

Leaning in, Robin looks a the bruise, his fingers ghosting over it. "To be quite honest, I wasn't paying close enough attention and… I was holding her shoulder. Maybe I was holding on too hard."

"Yeah… maybe."

"But I think I would have realized–" He stops, and his eyes cast up to meet Regina's. "I didn't mean to hurt her."

"You didn't."

"Not intentionally, but if she's–"

"You didn't hurt her," Regina says, her voice rising over his as her hand slides between Mal's shoulder blades as she gently rubs circles between them. "Besides, I could just as easily left a mark on her. We, um… weren't exactly being delicate with one another." She shrugs. "None of us were."

Dipping her head forward, she drops as kiss to Mal's shoulder as Robin lays back down on his pillow. She grins as he scoots closer to Mal, rubbing his nose against hers as his hand slips over her hip beneath the blanket that covers her lower half. Regina cuddles in and smiles, her hand sliding over his as it rests on Mal–and as Robin drifts to sleep, she loses herself in the fantasy of the three of them building a real life together.

Robin draws in a breath as he looks into the empty office space, his eyes quickly shifting to the clock on the wall. It'll be nearly an hour until the secretaries arrive, and probably two before Gold comes in to work–and he can likely be in and out without notice, now that he knows where everything is. And as long as he stops hesitating, he should be in and out of Gold's office without having to make up an excuse or even worry about getting caught.

Hoisting the camera bag over his arm, he draws in a breath, then moves across the office, fishing out his lock pick before he reaches the door. He shoves it into the lock and wiggles it around for a second until he feels the lock pop, and then a moment later, he's inside the office.

Quickly, he moves to the desk, picking the lock on the drawer and pulling out the accordion folder. He sets it on the desk as he pulls the camera out of the bag, smiling a bit wistfully as he remembers Mal adjusting the lens for a close-range shot before he left that morning. He removes the cap then sets it down on the desk just before reaching for the folder–and he scoffs as he pulls out a bank deposit slip, marked for the afternoon that he had lunch with Leopold Perrault.

"It's almost too easy," he mutters as he lays it out on the desk and lifts the camera to his eye, focusing it before snapping the picture.

He does the same for the other receipts, glancing at the clock before carefully tucking the receipts back in to the folder. Putting it back in the drawer, he fishes out the appointment book, taking pictures of the necessary pages–and by the time he has what he needs and the desk is clear, there's still more than a half an hour before anyone's due to the office.

Once he's back in his own office, he removes the film from the camera and tucks it into its canister–and as he secures the canister into his coat pocket and buttons it in, he looks around and sighs, feeling a little lost.

There's no part of him that wants to stay–and he has a resignation letter all typed up and signed in his bag. Gold's trust in him is tentative at best, though, and he can't quite walk away just yet. So, with the a resigned sigh, he pulls a legal pad from his drawer and reaches for a pen–and makes himself look busy.

He spends the next hour or so, taking notes–creating a timeline of what the pictures show for Judge Hopper. He starts by linking the appointments to the banking slips,

Robin starles as he hears a knock come at his office door, and as he looks up, he watches as Belle peeks in.

"You are the absolute last person I expected to see."

Belle grins. "Glad to see you, too."

"You know that's not what I meant," he tells her, dropping down his pen. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

"Well, if I look at my notes for my mock trial any longer," Belle says, closing the door and crossing the room, "I'm going to lose my damn mind."

"I can understand that," he tells her as a soft chuckle rises into his voice as Belle sits down across from him at the desk. "Don't tell Regina, but you can be overprepared."

"And, I brought you this," she says, grinning as she pulls a parchment-wrapped breakfast sandwich from her bag. "It's from that restaurant we went to the other day."

His brow furrows as he accepts the sandwich. "While I'm grateful, that restaurant is awfully expensive."

"It is," she nods. "But, you know, as my fake boyfriend, you're worth the investment." His eyes narrow and Belle laughs, shaking her head. "My sister, Lacey, is dating a waiter who works there and sometimes picks up extra shifts by working as a host."

"Small world."

"And… I might've snagged the reservation book."

Robin's brow arches. "Snagged it?"

"He might have filled one and had to start setting up and new one, and he might have brought the used up one over to my apartment to make sure he set it up correctly, and…well…" Belle's voice trails off as a coy little grin tugs across her lips. "You should be proud."

"I am."

He watches as Belle pulls out the book and opens it to a page marked with a paperclip. "Take a look…" Robin takes the book, blinking as he looks at the page–and from the corner of his eye, he can see Belle smilingly almost giddily as she reaches across the desk. "It shows who made the reservation, and–"

"It confirms what we saw."

"Yes," she nods. "The Perraults have an account–" Robin blinks, looking up. "They're sent a bill monthly, and the bank just pays." Biting down on her lip. "Check the back." His brow arches as he flips to the back of the book. "It doesn't give much information, and I'm sure a family like the Perraults have multiple accounts, but–"

"I, at least, know where they bank."

"I don't imagine it'd be too difficult to find out if withdrawals were made."

"No," Robin murmurs, feeling excitement prickling at the back of his neck. "It wouldn't be."

"You can keep it. He'll just assume he's lost the book." 

"The boyfriend won't think you or your sister took it?"

Belle's brow arches, and she feigns insult. "Why would either of us want a restaurant's appointment book?"

"Fair point."

Nodding, she rises up. "The sandwich is good. The egg's nice and runny."

"You didn't have to–" He stops, chuckling as he looks up at her. "Did you pay for this?"

"No," she tells him, shaking her head. "He brought some for my sister."

Laughing, Robin nods. "I am so proud of you."

"In a year or so when I'm graduated and unemployed–"

"You do realize you'll have a job wherever Regina or I land?"

"I hope so."

"I know so."

Belle grins and nods, then excuses herself–and as he watches her go, a little laugh bubbles up in him, and he wondered if Leopold Perrault really was as messy as he seemed, leaving trails of his misdeeds that were so easily connected–and while it seemed unlikely, men like the Perrault Brothers never had to clean up their own messes. They hired people to do it, and so he'd likely never learned to care–and when you could buy lawyers and judges, as they obviously did, what did a trail of evidence matter?

Looking back down at the reservation book, Robin added the information to his notes–and then, spent the rest of the morning going through the notes he had on Mal's case. He went through the police reports and character witnesses–some he'd interviewed and others interviewed by the police. He'd talked to neighbors and friends, the wives of business associates and women who volunteered for the same organizations that Mal volunteered for. He went through the autopsy report and Mal's story, then he went through Leopold's–and everything Mal said checked out. Friends and acquaintances noticed things. They saw things, but never said anything, assuming it wasn't what they thought–it couldn't be–and it wasn't their place to inquire or tell. Maids and other staff knew more, but were afraid to say anything–afraid of Stefan and what he'd do to them, if they ever found out–and Mal always seemed to bounce back, though they all privately feared that one day, she wouldn't.

Everything pointed to Mal acting in self-defense–and the fact that the District Attorney refused to acknowledge that only made sense if he was being paid not to, and Robin couldn't help but wonder if this whole thing ran deeper than Gold.

Drawing in a breath, he reaches for the reservation book, flipping to the back page and focusing on the name of the bank, and wondering if he could somehow gain access to it, wondering if, perhaps, Mal still had the ability to access Stefan's accounts–and then, from across the office, he heard Gold laugh out at something his secretary said, and he felt his shoulders tense.

Looking up, he could see them through the window of his office, watching the way Gold seemed to flirt–and he felt his anger building until suddenly, he couldn't sit still any longer.

Rising up from his desk, he packed up his bag and latched it before reaching for the camera bag, deciding that if anyone asked, he'd claim to be going up north to visit his sons. After all, what father would go and visit his children at summer camp and not take pictures? He was already across his office when he decided the excuse was valid–and he barely heard what he said as he crossed the open space, telling his secretary he'd be out of the office for the rest of the day.

She'd simply agreed to it and no one asked where he was going or about the camera bag slung over his shoulder.

He'd stopped on the way, picking up take-out from a little Italian place that made meatball subs–and as he left the restaurant with his takeout bag in-hand, he could feel the tension leaving him as his thoughts shifted to an afternoon with Regina and Mal.

Regina hadn't gone into her office that morning; instead, she convinced Mal to spend the day shopping, going to various stores to get the items necessary for setting up a darkroom in the basement. According to Mal, the little room–which, they'd always anticipated would be a playroom for the boys but never got around to actually finishing–was a good fit, and the cabinet they'd installed just before Roland was born would easily hold her supplies.

She seemed excited, even if tentatively so, and Regina didn't want to waste any time–especially considering they'd need Mal to develop the pictures he'd taken in Gold's office.

But when he comes in, the shopping bags are still by the door and Regina and Mal are on the couch in the living room. Mal's head is in Regina's lap and Regina's fingers are combing through it.

"What happened?"

"Noth–"

"She had a panic attack."

Robin's brow furrows as his eyes shift from Regina to Mal. "What happened?" he asks again, his heart starting to beat a little faster. "Did–"

"I probably just imagined it."

"I don't think you did," Regina says looking to him as he sits down beside them. "We were at the art store and I ran into Mary Margaret, and you know how hard it is to shut her up once she starts talking."

A sort of laugh escapes him as his throat tightens. "Only you think that."

"It's my fault," Mal murmurs, not really listening to what they're saying. "I shouldn't–"

"Mal went to get the, um…"

"Fixer and developer."

"Oh–"

"Right, well, while Mary Margaret and I were talking, Mal went to grab the fixer and developer and… and she saw Leopold."

"Leopold Perrault?" Robin's brows arch. "Are you sure?"

"No," Mal murmurs. "I'm not."

"But if she did see him–"

"Why would he have been at an art store? Especially given that there are probably twenty of them between here and the Perrault's estate." Robin's eyes sink closed. "So, you think–"

"He was following us."

"And I just… freaked."

"Mal–"

"It's understandable that–"

"I couldn't breathe," she says as tears well in her eyes. "I could… see him breathing and I kept thinking of those calls I used to get when I was staying at the hotel and–"

"Calls?"

"Remember?" Regina asks. "Before she came to stay with us–"

Robin nods–and makes a mental note to call the phone company and see if their operators keep records of calls. If Leopold was stalking Mal–calling her or trying to intimidate her–an operator would have had to put him through to her line.

"He looks so much like Stefan. For a moment, that's who I thought–"

"He can't hurt you," Regina says, rubbing her hand over Mal's shoulder. "He–"

"What if he's been watching?"

"Watching?"

"Mal, he can't–"

"What if he knows?"

Robin's eyes shift to Regina's. "Mal," she begins. "Even if he's been watching us in public, there's no way he knows what we've been doing at home. He can't–"

"What if he suspects me and Robin?"

Letting out a shaky breath, Robin tries to remember any contact he and Mal have had outside of the house–and for the life of him, he can't. He couldn't. There's nothing they've done that's felt out of the ordinary or that would stand out–and as Regina alluded to, they've been careful.

"Stefan was going to expose… well… he was going to tell the world what… what we'd… we'd been…"

"I'm not worried about that anymore," Regina says, stroking her fingers up and down the length of Mal's arm. "We're not doing anything wrong."

"Aren't we, though?"

"Just because something's illegal, it doesn't mean–"

"I'm not talking about you and me," Mal says, her eyes shifting up to look at Regina. "I mean, I am, but… but what if… what he knows that Robin is… well… helping you and not…"

"I'm not concerned about that," Robin cuts in. "I just went through all of my notes and–"

"It's illegal, Robin. You're an Assistant District Attorney. You shouldn't be–"

"It's… more unethical," he counters, cutting her off. "Besides, I think the scrutiny will be elsewhere." He pauses. "I've… merely investigated a case I was assigned, and found nothing to support the charges Gold wants me to try." Shifting his eyes up to Regina, he shrugs. "And no one has to know about… well… our relationship."

"But–"

"Mal, you're simply a house guest to anyone from the outside looking in."

"A house guest of the prosecuting–"

"Look," Regina cuts in. "Gold things Robin's having an affair. All of our friends knew I wasn't happy when Robin left the firm. It wouldn't be a stretch to assume our marriage is strained."

"Assume–"

"That's what anyone would be doing if they believe something's going on between you and me… or you and Regina." He pauses as he looks down at her, trying to catch her gaze, and when he fails, he frowns. "And, to our benefit, our arrangement is unusual enough that no one would outright suspect it to be what it is."

"What if Stefan told him? What if Leo knows that–"

"Mal, Leopold's credibility is going to be shot."

"Besides, I won't be complicit in–"

She sits up and looks between them, her eyes red and teary–and as her lip catches between her teeth she nods. "Stefan was always the smarter one," she says, her voice small. "Even Stefan admitted that."

"See–"

"And he never let on to… knowing."

"Then it's possible he doesn't."

"And, regardless," Regina says, reaching out and wiping away the tear tracks on Mal's cheek. "This will probably be over long before he manages to connect the dots."

"Gold thinks I was able to persuade some of the house staff," Robin begins as he reaches for her hand, "He thinks I'm falling in line."

Mal nods as she draws in a breath. "It… it might not even have been Leo."

"That's possible," Regina murmurs. "I didn't see him."

"I just… I keep thinking that…"

"Then stop," Robin says, cutting in as his voice rises over hers. "Stop thinking about it."

"It's not that easy," Mal replies. "After all, it's my life on the line."

"I know," he murmurs back, his head dipping forward to rest against her as he pecks at her cheek. "I didn't mean to imply that it would be easy."

"But Robin's right," Regina says. "We have every reason to believe that this is… all just going to go away."

"It can't be that neat."

"But it won't be our mess to clean up."

"You… you really think that your old professor can help?"

"It's his job to," Regina says, nodding. "Besides, he's one of the most ethical people I know. Even if it weren't his job, he'd help."

Mal considers it, again, looking between them. "I'm… not exactly used to things working out in my favor."

"Well, I'm not sure I believe in karma or the universe doing favors for anyone, but if anyone deserves something to work out the way, it's you."

A little grin edges onto Mal's lips as she looks to Regina. "That's sweet."

"It's true."

"And until then, we have a darkroom to build and pictures to develop," Robin says as a grin pulls onto his lips. "Did you manage to get everything you need?"

"We did," Regina answers. "Mal didn't tell me what happened until after we got home."

He nods and reaches for the bag on the coffee table. "So, how about this? We have lunch, then go downstairs and get started, and for a few hours, focus on that instead of… well… this."

"Is lunch in the bag?"

He looks to Mal and nods. "Meatball sandwiches."

"Do they have cheese on them?"

"Yours has extra."

At that, a little grin tugs onto her lips–and Regina laughs as she perks up a bit.

"Suppose I can't be distracted, though?" She asks, as he hands both her and Regina a wrapped sandwich. "What if I can't stop thinking of all the ways this could go wrong."

"Then, maybe we should come up with a Plan B," Regina says. "We do have another option."

"Do we?"

Nodding, Robin laughs. "We could all run away together."

"We couldn't."

"Why not?" Regina asks. "I hear Argentina is gorgeous, and the boys would love to live in a place that was warm all year."

At that, Mal's eyes widen–and she laughs. "The two of you are insane."

"Insane, or very thorough," Regina counters are she works to unwrap her sandwich. "We could… find a little farm and Robin would be in his glory."

"I prefer the woods to flat land," he tells them, feigning seriousness. "But I could make that work."

"Could you?" Mal asks. "You do realize they have a spider there that's called the Homicide Spider."

Regina blinks. "How do you know that?"

"I don't know. I read it somewhere. I forget where."

"Well, I read somewhere that they also have giant frogs and–"

"They're not giant, exactly, but they are rather large," Mal says as she works her finger underneath the flap of the paper. "Especially the females."

Regina blinks, looking between them. "Well, I don't know much about frogs, but I was rather traumatized as a child when I saw frog eat a spider."

"But it happens so quickly," Mal replies, her brow furrowing. "How could–"

"And that was just a regular frog."

"The Argentine kind are far more aggressive," Robin adds, laughing as they both look at him with raised brows. "What? I read, too."

Regina laughs out, and so does Mal, and as she takes the first bite of her sandwich, his eyes meet Regina's and they both grin, both understanding, but neither needing to verbalize that they've managed to distract Mal, despite her doubt that that was possible.

Robin laughs as his foot slides in the sand–and Regina slips just out of his reach, and then as soon as she looks back at him, sticking out her tongue to gloat, Mal's arms wrap around her waist and together, they tumble in the sand. He smiles as they both laugh out, Regina nearly in tears by the time Mal lets go of her, and the two of them collapse in the sand.

"It's not fair," Regina says, drawing in a breath in a failed effort to compose herself. "You two ganged up on me." A little giggle rises out of her. "I barely stood a chance."

Mal grins as she looks to him, watching him as he pulls himself up and hugs his arms around his knees. "It was your idea to come to the park."

"To go for a walk."

Mal's eyes roll. "That's so boring though."

"Unlike the hikes the two of you take."

"Those are far from boring."

"First of all," Robin begins, bristling a little. "The scenery is gorgeous and–"

"Uh oh," Mal cuts in, looking to Regina. "You've got him started on trees again."

"What?" He asks, looking between them. "They're such a benefit to–"

"Please stop," Regina says, sitting up as she laughs. "I don't need another lecture on how FDR solved the dust bowl issue by planting trees all through the plains."

He frowns. "That was a great program, for a lot of reasons."

"I know that," Regina tells him. "Which is why I don't need a lecture on it."

Mal draws in a breath, looking up at the the sky. Her eyes squint as she basks in the warm sun. "I like being out in nature."

"I don't," Regina frowns. "My skin–"

"I swear, if you start going on about wrinkles," Mal cuts in, laughing. "I'm leaving, and you'll have to spend even more time in nature because I drove you here."

A smirk edges onto Regina's lips. "At least, then I'd get my walk."

Shaking his head, Robin sighs and looks up at the sky. He breathes in the air, and though he knows it's impossible, he can almost smell the sun. He can hear Mal going on about National Parks and how gorgeous Yellowstone is, and how much she'd love to see the badlands–and he can't help but think how much he'd liked to see both of those parks, too.

He grins, thinking about what it'd be like to pile into Mal's car and pull the top down as they drove west. They'd have to drive to the Appalachian mountains and past at least two of the Great Lakes, and eventually, they'd find themselves on Route 66 and on the way to the middle of the country. He considers all of the amazing places they could stop along the way. It wouldn't be all open roads and camping though, they could stop at some of the bigger cities along the way and explore, wandering and getting lost together, eventually finding themselves in California on the Pacific coast. For most of the trip, there'd be no one around, and even if there was, they wouldn't spend enough time anywhere for anyone to catch on.

They could be themselves, free to enjoy one another without risk or worry.

"But those are different."

"How?" Mal asks. "A park is a park. They're there for everyone's enjoyment."

Regina's eyes roll. "I just think that sandboxes and jungle gyms are for children."

"Well, I don't see any children around here."

"Just that one."

Robin follows Mal's gaze to a little boy no more than four years old. He's on the swings on the other side of the playground, and his mother is pushing him. His little legs kick back and forth and even though he's at a distance, Robin can see his little smile as he claps his hands together and laughs–and Robin laughs softly as he hears the boys mother yell out his name, her voice a bit panicky as she reminds him to hold onto the swing.

"They look happy."

"They do," Regina agrees.

"Do you two want children?"

Robin looks back at Mal, his eyes shifting to Regina. "I… I think so," Regina says, her voice a bit tentative. "Maybe one, possibly two. Someday." Regina's eyes shift to him. "We haven't really talked about that."

"No?"

"No," Robin answers. "We've just been so focused on school and starting our careers, we haven't really… considered it."

"Do you want them?"

Robin blinks–and though he hadn't really thought much about it, he finds himself nodding. "I do."

"I do, too," Mal says. "Even though the thought of having sex with Stefan on multiple occasions sort of turns my stomach, I want a few." She nods, smiling gently. "Four sounds like a nice number."

"Four sounds… like a headache to me," Regina says a bit sheepishly. "They'd all be crying and–"

"Not all at once," Mal laughs.

"Don't they just… set each other off?"

Mal shrugs. "Not if theiry're ages are staggered. Someone told me its easiest when they're out of diapers by the time you have the next one." She shrugs. "It made sense to me."

"You've thought a lot about this," Robin realizes.

Mal nods. "It's… quite literally the only positive of marrying Stefan. So, I like to focus on it."

"Oh–"

"You know, Mal, you–"

Mal's laugh interrupts Regina, and Regina doesn't finish her thought. Instead, her gaze follows Mal, and his gaze follows Regina's, and he notices the boy who'd been on the swing a moment before rolling in the sand–and judging by the way his mother clutches at her chest, it's because he jumped from the swing.

And then before anyone can say anything, they all laugh out when the little boy stands up, lifting his arms up in triumph as his mother looks on, shaking her head.

It's raining as they drive upstate.

Mal sits in the passenger side, staring out the window, watching as pellets of rain hit against the glass. Normally, that was a comforting sound, but not today–today, it set her nerves on edge.

Fumbling with her fingers, she looks over at Regina, seated between them, watching as she reads through the contents of a yellow legal pad. She turns her head, noticing Robin's handwriting and the way Regina bites down on her lip–and then, in a move that's both fluid and abrupt, Regina reaches into the back seat and pulls a pen from her purse, and a moment later, she's scribbling in the margin.

Wistfully, she smiles. It reminds her of when they were in law school–though, she supposes a lot of things will remind her of that time today.

She looks back to the window, once more turning her attention to the rain–and she feels a sinking feeling in her stomach as she lets herself consider the possibility that they might have their hopes up for nothing, that Judge Hopper could very well review everything they've compiled and not see the connections they do, or worse, he might not want to.

They've been so excited about this possibility of all of this going away that they likely hadn't considered the possibility that it might not.

Too often she'd been let down by people she thought she could trust–and she didn't expect this to be any different. Robin and Regina knew Judge Hopper years ago and a lot of life happened between then and now; and though he was stalwart to his code of ethics then, she'd learned the hard way that everyone has a price.

"We're going to be early," Robin murmurs as he turns onto a road that once was so familiar to her. "I didn't anticipate–"

"I told you," Regina cuts in. "The last time we were up here it took so long because it was snowing."

Mal looks over at him, watching as his eyes narrow. "I don't remember that."

"And the two times before that, I drove."

"Yes, you and your lead foot." A little grin tugs onto her lips as she watches Regina's eyes roll. "Regardless, we've got two hours to spare."

And then, something happens–some sort of unspoken conversation that she's not privy to.

Her eyes narrow as she watches them–watching as Robin turns in the opposite direction and Regina laughs softly to herself as she reaches back and tucks the legal pad into her bag–and then, she turns herself back around, she reaches for Mal's hand, giving it a tight squeeze.

"Are you hungry?"

"Not particularly," Mal admits, biting down on her lip as one of the street signs catches her eye–and then, she looks sharply back at Regina. "Oh–"

"Well, you know as well as I do that you're not going to be able to go in there and not eat."

"A-are you sure we should–"

"Granny would love to see you, Mal."

"I don't know. I… I never said goodbye, and–"

"She adored you."

Biting down on her lip, she looks between them. "You… planned this."

"No," Robin insists. "I really thought it'd take longer."

Regina grins. "We were going to stop for dinner, instead."

"Of course," she says, shaking her head as she looks back to the window.

"She'll want to see you," Robin insists.

"Yeah," Regina agrees, reaching for her hand. "She always asks about you."

Mal's eyes widen and her breath gets caught in her chest, forcing her to look away.

It's been years since she's allowed herself to think of her–and for years before that, she tried to convince herself that the relationship she had with Mrs. Lucas was built up in her head to more than it was. She told herself that she was probably a thorn in her side, always hanging around for longer than she should, taking up space that customers who'd order more than some coffee and pie could have had. She told herself that when she came into the diner just to talk, she was likely in the way, and she told herself that Granny was probably being nice to her because she felt like she had to–and though she knew none of that was actually true, the more she said it to herself, the more true it seemed.

"Hey," Regina murmurs, giving her hand a tight squeeze. "This isn't a sad reunion."

Nodding, she looks back at Regina, her stomach flopping. "When, um… when was the last time you saw her?"

"Easter?"

"Oh–"

"Like Regina said the other day, we usually do holidays with her–Thanksgiving and Easter, sometimes Christmas," Robin explains. "Regina's dad got a place in Puerto Rico after her mother died, and he splits his time between there and the house in Connecticut."

"And by split," Regina says, a soft chuckles rising into her voice. "He's usually there."

Robin nods as he looks over at her, again winding around a bend that was once so familiar to her, a curve that'll lead straight into the heart of the small town nestled in the woods. "It's a ninety-ten split–ninety percent of his time is there, ten percent of it here. Can't say I blame him."

"We visited him when we were there."

"There weren't any pictures of him," Mal says, her brow furrowing slightly. "Why–"

"Like we said," Regina cuts in. "That's why we needed you there to make sure pictures were taken."

"You're both perfectly capable of–"

"Obviously not," Robin retorts. "You saw that for yourself."

She rolls her eyes, but a smile tugs onto her lips. "I'm glad you stayed in touch with Granny."

"She's, unironically, like a grandmother to Henry and Roland. They love coming up here to see her."

At that, she smiles again. "So, she still runs the diner?"

"With her granddaughter, Ruby," Robin replies. "Do you remember her?"

"Yeah, I showed her around town once."

"She lives in our old apartment now."

Again, a little smile edges onto her lips as she thinks of that apartment and the time they all spent there. She easily remembers before she knew them, how she'd eyed the space for a studio and how disappointed she'd been when she returned from a family vacation to find that Granny had rented it out to a couple just starting law school. She'd lamented that the space wouldn't be available again for years, offered to pay double the rent, and mourned the loss of her near-refuge–and then, only a few months later, she met the couple upstairs, and they'd become the escape she'd been seeking.

The rain lets up to a mere drizzle as they pull into the lot, and her stomach flutters as Robin pulls into one of the open spaces–and before she can even exhale the breath she drew in, he's out of the car, and Regina is pushing at her arm, urging her to get out, too.

She follows behind them as they walk to the front of the diner, and she looks up at it, she finds that it's completely unchanged–and for some reason, that it makes her heart ache.

Regina goes in first and as the bell on the door jingles, Robin's hand presses to the small of her back, pushing her forward and into plain view–and when Granny instinctively looks up to greet her customers, her eyes widen and a smile pulls onto her lips.

Tossing down the dish cloth of the counter, she tugs off her apron as she rounds the counter, practically running across the crowded diner to where they stand.

"Oh my god," she breathes out as her ams fold around her. "I can't believe it's you. You have no idea how much I've missed you" She squeezes her tighter–uncomfortably so–and just as Mal's arms go up around her to hug her back, Granny pushes her back, her hands still hanging onto her elbows. "Let me get a good look at you."

"I missed you–oh."

Granny pulls her back, hugging her tighter and rocking her gently–and in spite of her worrying, Mal feels a smile edging onto her lips as she nearly melts into the hug. Her eyes close as her head rests on Granny's shoulder. She's soft and warm, and smells vaguely like lasagna–and when it's only Granny pulls away that she realizes there are tears welling in her eyes.

"Oh, it's just so nice to see the three of you together again," Granny says, slipping an arm around her waist as she looks between them all. "I still haven't gotten used to seeing the two of them without you."

Bristling, Mal watches as Robin and Regina exchange a look. "Really? Even after all this time?"

"Even after all this time," Granny says, hugging her into her side. "Come on. Let's all go upstairs. Ruby can manage while we visit." They all follow Granny across the diner, momentarily slowing their pace as she reaches behind the counter, pulling a pie dish from the cooler. She sets the pie on the counter beside her discarded apron, and they all watch as she pulls out her notepad, scribbling something down on it before handing off to Ruby. "I knew there was a reason I made key lime last night," she tells them–earning a soft laugh from each. "And now I am so glad that I did."

"See," Regina murmurs. "I told you stopping here this was a good idea."

"Of course, it was a good idea," Granny says, handing the pie off to Robin as she fumble with her key. "Are you just stopping in on your way to visit your boys or–"

"We're going to see an old professor of ours," Regina says.

"Yeah, uh, you might remember him… Judge Hopper."

Granny's brow arches as she pushes open the door. "The one who had a thing for Regina?"

Mal can't help but giggle as Regina groans. "It wasn't like that."

"Try convincing this one of that," Granny says, nodding to Robin. "You'll have to excuse the mess. I haven't had much time to clean. Ruby's in the middle of a move and–"

"So, the apartment is empty?"

Granny nods. "After your burgers arrive, I'll take you over, if you wanna have a look for old time's sake."

"I'd…I'd like that," Mal says as she sits down on the couch, mindful of the space between her and Robin. "If there's time."

"I'm sure there will be," Granny says, disappearing into the kitchen and returning with three plates and forks. "There's always time."

"So, Ruby moved out?"

Granny nods as she looks to Regina, handing them each forks. "She got a dog and decided he deserves a yard." Granny sighs as she cuts into the pie. "Maugrim was a cute little thing when he was a puppy, but it's part wolf and had a bark that sounds like it." She sighs as she drops a slice of pie onto Mal's plate. "Scared my customers half to death whenever he spotted a squirrel on the fire escape."

"Is she still with…" Robin's voice fades as he looks to Regina who only shrugs. "What was her boyfriend's name?"

"Peter," Granny sighs. "And no. That's over."

"Weren't they pretty serious?"

"Last time we were here," Regina says, looking to Granny, "He told me he was ring shopping."

"He was a nice enough boy, but he'd never have made her happy," she pauses and there's a heavy silence, as if she's weighing what she should and shouldn't say–and then she sighs. "No man could."

She stares at them for a moment, waiting for them to understand–and as realization settles in their eyes, she nods, smiling gently. "She's happier now."

"So, is there… someone else?"

"No, it's just her and that dog, but… there's the possibility of someone else and that makes her happy, I think." A little smile edges onto Mal's lips-that's a sentiment she more than understands. "So, I take it since you're here, you've finally left that asshole your family made you marry."

Her breath catches and immediately, her eyes cast down. "Um, not… exactly," she murmurs. "I, um… I shot him, actually." Biting down on her lip, she looks up hesitantly. "I just… snapped one day."

"It was self-defense," Regina's quick to add.

"That's actually why we're up here, why were going to see Judge Hopper," Robin says–and she feels herself tense as Robin reaches back behind her and rubs his hand against her back.

For a moment, Granny says nothing–and again, she can see her processing it, trying to decide what she thinks and what she should says. And then, as her shoulders square up, she nods. "I never liked him. He always… just gave me a bad feeling."

"Me too," Mal admits–for so long, she told herself she simply didn't like Stefan and that they were a poor match. But as the years passed, every worry she had about him proved true, and every time she told herself that something wouldn't be that bad, it was always worse–and it wasn't until nearly the very end that people started to confess they felt it too, that something always seemed off, that they worried about her when she was alone with him.

"He used to poke around here sometimes," Granny says. "Asking if I'd seen you around or if I knew where you'd gone." She sighs and shakes her head. "I always lied. I said I hadn't seen you recently or you'd just parked in my lot, and I didn't know here you'd gone off to." Momentarily her eyes sink closed. "And I'd just pray that you'd stay away from the windows until he'd gone."

"This… happened often?"

"Not often," Granny admits as her eyes open. "But enough to make me worry." Shaking her head, she looks pointedly at her. "I won't ask you for the details, but I'm glad that you're free of him."

"I am too," Mal admits, her voice small. "I just hope I don't go–"

"Stop, right there," Granny cuts in. "I'm obviously playing catch up, but I can't imagine any scenario in which you go to prison for this." She grins. "These two would never let that happen." Once more, she pauses and Mal finds herself looking up, watching as Granny's eyes narrow and her finger rubs along the piping of the chair where she sits across from them–and then she says it. "They love you far too much to let that happen. They were absolutely sickened when you left. That's not the sort of thing you forget and it's not the sort of thing you let happen a second time… especially not when you're as in love as they were with you."

Mal feels her breath catch in her chest and Robin's hand stills. From the corner of her eye, she can see Regina stiffen as her brow arches–and Granny just laughs.

"You really thought I didn't know about the three of you."

"Um… you never said anything, so…" Regina says, stammering she looks to them.

"Well, what was I supposed to say?"

"How, um… how … I just… we were always so conscious of…"

Granny's laugh interrupts Robin's less than eloquent question, and shakes her head. "Honey, the walls weren't that thick and the apartments up here share vents."

"Oh my god," Mal hears herself say. "Oh god."

"It's okay," Granny says, reaching out and taking her hand, giving it a right squeeze. "I don't have to understand it to accept it–and really, now that I think about it, it's really not that hard to understand. Love isn't complicated, people just make it that way."

"So… you knew," Regina murmurs. "All that time, you knew."

Granny nods, grinning as she looks to Regina. "I almost caught you three a handful of times. You weren't as subtle as you think you were." Shaking her head, she sighs. "I just figured if you wanted me to know, you'd tell me. It wasn't any of my business."

"It was though," Robin says. "We were renting your–"

"Oh, stop," Granny cuts it. "You and Regina were good tenants and for the first time since I met her, Mal didn't seem so sad and lonely. You weren't hurting anything or anyone. Why would I have gotten in the way of that?"

Mal blinks, and she looks to Robin and Regina. "I… I just can't believe…"

"We were fighting a war back then because one group of people hated another and didn't bother to try to understand them. They were just blinded by hate and their own ideas of how things should be, how people should be. It seemed to me the world could use a little more love." A soft chuckle rises into her voice, and she gives her hand another squeeze. "And the longer I didn't confront it, the longer I just let things be, the easier it was to accept it."

"But, we could have put you in an uncomfortable place. What we were doing–"

"Don't even say that it was wrong," Granny cuts in, looking pointedly at her. "Love isn't wrong. We don't choose it. It chooses us. And as for me, I liked seeing the three of you so happy–especially you."

Mal lets out a shaky breath as she looks to Robin and Regina–and they look as stunned and overwhelmed as she feels.

"You kids were sweet together, and I'd defend your right to be together to anyone who questioned it." She draws in a breath as they look back to her, and again, she smiles. "And… are you together again?"

"Oh, that's… that's complicated. We're not kids anymore and–"

"We'd like for things to be the way they were," Robin says. "Regina and I would, that is."

Regina nods. "I think it could work."

"Love can get you through anything," Granny says, her brow arching pointedly and Mal can feel her eyes on her. "I know it's your inclination to fight it, but for once in your life, I wish you'd be selfish and let them love you."

"I don't want to hurt them. I don't want to hurt their sons. I just–" Her breath catches and she feels a rush of emotion. Tears well up in her eyes and she finds it difficult to arrange her thoughts in any way that makes sense–and as Robin's arm folds around, she can't help but turn herself into the embrace and cry on his shoulder. It's too much and it's too hard. She's never been good at considering what she wanted and now that people are asking that of her, all she can think of is everything she lost and gave up, and all she stands to lose.

"I'm going to go downstairs and pick up the lunch order I put in," Granny says, rising up from the chair. "I'll give you three a moment."

Regina shifts herself to the coffee table, her hand brushing up over her knee as she reaches for her hand, drawing it up and placing a flutter kiss over the back of it. "Well, that was a surprise."

"You… really didn't know that she knew?" Mal asks, lifting her head from Robin's shoulder as she nuzzles into him. "She never said anything…even after I left?"

"We really didn't."

"She was… supportive after you left, though," Robin says. "But it was easy to assume it was because she was upset and missing you, too."

"Mal, this is a good thing."

"Is it?"

Robin nods. "Regina's right. It's a very good thing, and Granny's right. This is all going to work itself out."

"I just… I don't want to disrupt your lives. I don't want you to have to give up–"

"You're not a disruption, and the people in our lives will…adjust or–"

"Leave."

Regina's eyes shift to Robin. "I'm going to say this as many times as it takes for your to understand it," she says as their eyes meet. "If our friends and acquaintances take issue with our relationship with you, then those aren't people we need in our lives."

"That's easier said than done," she says, her voice quiet as she wishes it could be as easy as they make it seem.

"And, maybe… we need to make some other changes."

Mal watches as Robin's eyes shift to Regina. "What if we… packed up and started over. What if we lived somewhere quieter, somewhere a bit more free and liberal, a bit more eccentric." He grins as his eyes shift back to Mal. "Somewhere you could have a little studio and–"

"That was always your intent for that apartment."

Mal's brows arch. "You'd want to move back here."

"I don't know," Regina says, shrugging. "Maybe."

"Is… is this something you've talked about or–"

"We've talked about making some changes," Robin tells her. "Ways that would make fitting you back into our lives easier on us all." He shrugs. "And we were happy here, so why not?"

"Henry and Roland are in school, and they have friends and–"

"They'd love it up here," Robin cuts in. "They'd easily trade the woods for a playground, and they'll always be able to make new friends."

"We don't have to make any decisions now," Regina says. "But… it's something to think about."

They say no more about it, and before she can reply or argue, Granny returns with the food she ordered. She sets it up at the table–four large pieces of lasagna and a tossed salad with her practically famous homemade dressing, and a side of green beans. Mal grins as she orders Robin to pour them all some tea and she hands her a stack of plates–and they all laugh when Granny tells Regina to just wait.

Regina's eyes roll and she pouts as she sits down at the table and waits to be served–and then, they all sit together, catching up on the events of the last several years. Granny asks her a thousand questions, somehow managing to talk about the last decade of her life without ever mentioning Stefan or making her think of him. Granny, Robin, and Regina trade memories of holidays and cookouts, making it incredibly difficult to stifle the little voice in the back of her head that wonders if this couldn't be a regular thing–wondering what it'd be like to buy one of the old Victorian-style houses in the town here. She and Regina marveled over them countless times when they'd taken walks together, and it's easy to picture them all in one of them, raising a family and hosting Sunday night dinners with those they considered their family. It was a rare occasion that she let herself think of what that life could be like, but somehow, she just can't help it. It calms her though and make her feel less nervous about the rest of what's planned for the day–and for just a little while, she indulges in the fantasy of feeling happy and surrounded by love.

She grumbles the whole way there–muttering that she's not interested in spending the weekend swatting away mosquitoes and other bugs or swimming in an algae-filled lake or sleeping on the cold, hard ground. She complains about the possibility of mountain lions or maybe even bears–and the last one earns an eye roll from both Robin and Mal, but otherwise her whining falls on deaf ears.

It's a warm summer day and she'd envisioned herself spending it laying on a towel on the fire escape, soaking up the sun. But then Mal was there and she and Robin were cooking up a plan, and in less than an hour later, her plans of a lazy day in the sun had changed. She was sandwiched between them in Mal's car–a cute little Candy Apple Red Chevy Coupe with a convertible top–and they were speeding toward a destination she had no interest in reaching.

They told her it'd be fun and that she might surprise herself–and suddenly she was questioning what she ever saw in either of them.

While she was fighting with Robin about it, Mal had ducked into the bedroom and packed her a bag. She tossed Robin her car keys and grabbed Regina by the hand, and that was that.

Every now and then, Robin would grin over at her and say something ridiculous about having trout for breakfast or how they could all start the next morning with a hike, and Mal would only giggle from her spot in the passenger seat as she crossed her arms and pouted.

And the only thing worse than this excursion itself was that Robin and Mal seemed to be so gleefully enjoying her suffering.

Finally, when the sun was beginning to set, Robin turned down what seemed like the hundredth dirt road and the little car started up a steep hill–and she couldn't help but feel like she was on some horrible carnival ride and as soon as they reached the top of the hill, they'd all plummet to their deaths.

But that's not at all what happened when they reached the top of the hill.

Regina felt her eyes widening as Mal chuckled softly–and she takes in a gorgeous cabin on a bluff.. "We're here," she says, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. "What do you think? Think you can handle this?"

Regina blinks as she looks to her, then looks back to the cabin. "This… looks like some sort of resort."

"It is," Mal laughs. "Well, it sort of is. It used to be a ski resort, but my parents closed it down in the thirties." She shrugs as Regina blinks back at her. "It's a private resort now, and it's off-season, so the three of us will have it all to ourselves."

"C'mon," Robin says, opening the door and grabbing their bags from the tiny back seat. "Let's go check out the inside." He pulls the passenger side door open and grins, taking Mal's hand and helping her from the car, and then, he reaches for Regina. "Just for the record, I wasn't joking about those morning hikes." His eyes light up as he looks around here. "Look at all these trees!"

Regina's eyes roll and Mal laughs out. "You two can hike," Regina decides. "I'll be sleeping in."

"Fair enough," Robin says, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek before they follow Mal to the front door–and then as soon as they enter, Regina's jaw drops and her eyes widen as she takes in the view. "Oh, my god," Robin breathes out, walking toward the large picture window overlooking a bluff–and the crystal blue lake at the bottom of it. "That's…

"Gorgeous," Mal supplies. "I know. That view is why my parents kept this place, even though it'd turned into a money pit."

"It's worth it." He says as Mal's arm slips around her waist and she rests her head against Robin's arm. "How far is it to the lake?"

"Not nearly as far as it looks," Mal sighs. "But there's a stable out back, and a couple of horses that don't mind the walk down." She grins. "I was thinking that… tonight we could do down. There's a nice little dock and a bonfire pit, and a tiny little guesthouse down there, and–" she laughs as her eyes slide to Regina. "A lake full of trout."

Regina's eyes roll, but she grins nonetheless as the idea of an evening by the lake–especially with a guest house nearby where she can hide from the mosquitoes.

They spend the late afternoon, settling in and unpacking–and to her surprise, the refrigerator is packed full of fresh food and there are warm, clean towels in the bathrooms. Mal explains that there's a property manager still around–an old man named Marco who her parents couldn't bear to fire when the resort closed down. She'd given him a call to let him know she'd be coming up with friends and he took the weekend off–leaving them completely alone and with everything they needed. There was no need to go into town or see anyone else. Her blue eyes glittered as she told them and Regina could practically feel her excitement brimming–it was so rare they didn't have to worry about who was nearby or might be watching, and this would be a wonderful retreat from reality for them all.

They packed a picnic basket and when they got to the stable, they saddled up the horses and made the quick trip down to the lake–and even though she was surrounded by nature and all it's irritatingly fresh and crisp glory, she had to admit, it was kind of nice.

The tiny little guesthouse proved to be larger than the apartment she and Robin shared, and there was a little bedroom with a little half-bathroom attached, and a kitchenette with just the basics, and like the bigger house at the top of the hill, the front room overlooked the water. And, in just a few minutes, they'd all changed into their swimsuits and Mal and Robin were dragging her out to the beach. It was a short walk and once they got there, Robin made a fire while Mal attached hot dogs and corn on the cob to skewers–and while Robin and Mal cooked, she settled on an adirondack chair with a beer and watched the sun setting over the water.

Finally, as the moon rose above the lake, they settled on the edge of the dock, dangling their feet over the edge–and Mal and Robin didn't miss the opportunity to tease her when her toes just barely skimmed the top of the water.

"What a perfect day," Mal says, leaning back on her elbows. "I'm glad we did this."

"Even if we practically had to tie someone down and stuff her in the trunk," Robin teases. "I half expected her to make a run for it whenever we stopped for gas."

Regina's eyes roll and she takes a sip of her beer. "I wasn't that–"

"You complained for three hours," Mal interjects, shaking her head. "At one point, I took a nap and when I woke up, you were still going strong."

Robin laughs and presses a kiss to her cheek. "You're lucky you're cute, you know that?"

Again, she rolls her eyes. "Well, if you two wouldn't have lied to me and–"

"We didn't lie."

"No," Mal says, laughing softly. "You made an assumption and we just… let you keep assuming."

"So, really, you can't blame me for complaining for hours and hours since you refused to let me in on the plan," Regina says, straightening her shoulders and tipping up her chin–and she completely misses the way Robin and Mal look at each other and the sly little grins that edge onto their lips. "Whose bright idea was that, anyway?"

Then, before she can even blink, Robin tugs her up forward, and together they topple into the water. She scream in surprise as the cold water consumes her, but then a moment later, she's laughing and wrapping her arms around his neck. He grins at her as his arms fold around her back and her legs loop around his hips. "I think it was my idea," he tells her just before kissing her, and as she slides her fingers into his hair, she feels Mal's lips on her shoulder–sucking and nibbling–and she can't help but laugh and forgive them.

The dinner with Archie Hopper seemed to go well, and just as he'd insinuated on the phone with Regina, he doesn't think they are wrong. The state doesn't have much of a case against Mal, and bringing it to trial simply doesn't make sense. All of the evidence points to self-defense and the interactions with Leopold are awfully suspicious. He took a painful amount of time reviewing everything, asking all sorts of questions and taking his own notes–and by the end of it, he assured them they'd have an answer soon and he had a feeling the others on the Board would see exactly what he saw. Of course, they'd review the information and investigate, but he felt they had reason to be optimistic.

Despite the seemingly good news, Mal was practically silent–and aside from the stop at Granny's she'd been uncomfortably quiet.

The night before, Mal had developed the pictures he took in Gold's office. He and Regina sat on top of the supply cabinet, watching as she worked in the nearly completely dark room, watching how purposefully she moved and how she seemed so much in her element. Every now and then, she'd notice some detail of the picture, but before she could tense up, she'd go back to work and her shoulders would relax again.

There were some other pictures on the roll–beautifully artistic shots taken around the house. There was one of the boys' checkers board and another of their shoes–a shot that somehow made him emotional–and a few more other things around the house. Mal smiled back at them as she tipped one of the developing pictures toward them, and they could see it was one of two of them, sharing a sweet moment that they didn't realize she'd captured. She hung it on the line and made a comment that it was one that they should frame, and he couldn't help but agree, though he found himself wishing Mal were in it, too.

She'd bundled up the pictures for Archie and tucked them into an envelope with the notes he'd taken to explain them–and then, they'd planned the weekend. If they would, they'd stop at Granny's, then meet with Archie. They'd get a hotel room in town, then drive up to the camp to see Henry and Roland–and as he and Regina planned the weekend, Mal had listened and nodded and said nothing.

They'd settled that night in a small little motel room and she claimed that she was just tired–tired and overwhelmed by everything–so they hadn't pressed; after all, being tired and overwhelmed was understandable.

Then, that morning as they were getting ready to leave, she suggested that maybe she shouldn't go, and he and Regina should go visit their sons without her. She argued that she could go and visit with Granny or she could go for a drive, that it wasn't fair to thrust her upon Roland and Henry this way.

But he and Regina disagreed, and Regina managed to convince her to come–after all, they weren't telling the boys anything, they were simply visiting and introducing someone special to them. Reluctantly, she agreed, and then again fell silent as they drove up to the camp, and when they arrived, she suggested that maybe she could wait in the car–a suggestion that only earned a grunt of reply from Regina.

Regina links her arm through Mal's as they walk up the path to the camp and check in at the main office and get visitor badges, and then walk to the mess hall where the boys are getting breakfast.

Henry spots them first, nudging his brother who lights up at the sight of them. Both boys abandoning their trays and running across the mess hall–and as Roland quickly approaches, he doesn't slow down the way Henry does, crashing into Regina's legs, practically knocking her over as she wraps her arms around him and pulls him into a hug. He sweeps Henry up and spins him before setting him down and hugging him into his side, and he laughs when Henry tells Regina he missed her and her eyebrow arches as she asks if that's why he'd written so often.

Henry's cheeks flush–and then his eyes shift to Mal.

"Come on," Robin says, gently tugging Henry's hand and nodding to the door. "Let's go sit by the dock."

Roland immediately launching into a story about a vase he'd made using a pottery wheel the other day, explaining how he'd formed it and painted it and how it had to bake for days and days–and as Roland carried on about what sort of flowers would look best in his vase, Henry keeps an eye on Mal.

"Hey, how about here?" Regina asks as they walk up to a bench by the dock. "Let's sit."

Regina sits down and pulls Roland onto her lap and he sits next to her as Henry settles on the grass–and Regina grins as she looks to Mal and pats the empty space beside her. "There's plenty of room," she says, grinning as Mal reluctantly sits beside her. "I can't wait to see your vase," she says, hugging Roland. "And even though I'm sad you haven't written much, I'm glad you're having a good summer."

"We are," Henry assures her, again looking to Mal. "Have you been enjoying the summer?"

"We have," Robin replies as he looks to Mal. "Our friend from law school came to stay with us." He pauses and looks between his sons. "This is Mal."

"Hi," Henry says in a meek voice. "It's nice to meet you."

"It's good to meet you, too, Henry. Your parents have told me lots about you and–"

"Are you a lawyer, too?"

"No," she says, shaking her head. "I'm not."

"Mal is a photographer," Regina says. "Do you want to see one of her pictures? She took it for you two."

Roland and Henry both nod, and Regina pulls the picture of the checkers board out from her purse. Robin grins as his eyes shift to Mal, watching her watch his sons take in the picture.

"That's in our room," Henry notes.

"Yeah, it looks cool, though," Roland tells her. "Cooler than it usually does. You can't even see the corner I dented when I dropped it down the stairs."

At that, Henry's eyes roll before he looks back to the picture. "It really does look like something you'd see in a magazine," he says, looking back to Mal. "Did you develop it, too?"

"I did."

"That's so cool. How do you–"

"Do you use a special camera?" Roland asks, looking up–and as Mal starts to answer, Roland launches into twenty more questions, making her laugh. She starts by answering Henry's question about how she develops her own pictures, then moves onto Roland's, firing through them in the order that he asked–a detail that seems to impress him. And by the time she's through answering the questions, she seems to be a bit more relaxed–and quickly, the boys shift the conversation to the things they've been learning at camp. In addition to pottery, there have been days for painting and woodworking, days for horseback riding and archery, and almost every day they've gotten to swim. On rainy days, they play games in the cabin, and Henry proudly admits that he won a checkers tournament, earning him a weeks' worth of ice cream from the other campers–and Roland pouts a little when he tells them that Henry doesn't like to share it, not even with his brother.

"Do you like frogs?"

Robin looks to Roland, and sees that he's asking Mal, and Mal's brow arches as she nods. "I do, I think."

"I don't," Regina says. "They're slimy and–"

"Mom, that's what makes them fun."

"Roland caught one," Henry tells him. "His name is Michigan J. Frog, like the frog from Merrie Melodies."

"Ah–"

"We call him Michy," Henry explains.

"I wanna bring him home."

"But he lives here," Regina says. "With all of his frog friends."

"Does he wear a top hat?" Mal asks–and Robin feels a grin form across his lips as both boys look to her with wide eyes.

"He doesn't have one," Roland explains. "But I think he'd like one."

"Have you tried making him one?"

"How?" Roland asks.

For a moment, Mal chews on her lip as she considers it. "Well, you can make anything out of construction paper, can't you?"

"That's true," Henry admits. "We should try to make one next time we get to go to the Arts and Crafts cabin."

"Yeah…"

Regina's eyes sink closed. "Why do I have a feeling this is going to be your new pet."

"Because it already is," Henry tells her–earning laughs from both him and Mal.

"So, where are you keeping this frog?" Mal asks, looking between Henry and Roland. "Where is Michy living?"

"In a shoebox," Henry tells her. "Mom packed one up with stationary and envelopes and–" Robin laughs as Regina's brow arches, and she looks pointedly at their son and as their eyes meet, Henry looks away. "That's his house now."

"Does it have sand in it?"

Roland nods. "Yeah, we filled it up."

"Good," Mal nods. "What about water? Where did you find him?"

"In the woods," Roland says. "Henry thought to put in a cup we stole from the mess hall."

"Does he swim in it?"

"More like soaks."

"Yeah," Henry says, giggling softly. "He likes to go in there and lounge."

"Well, of course he does," Mal says, grinning at them. "He practically has his own personal spa. Why wouldn't he hang out in there?"

Robin's eyes shift to Regina, and he watches as a grin pulls onto her lips as Mal goes on to have a relatively in-depth conversation with the boys about what Michy's diet is. Roland explains that he and the others boys like to catch crickets for him and Henry laughs as he tells a story about how the frog caught a moth that was fluttering around their cabin the other night.

"Such useful creatures," Mal says, grinning as she looks between the boys. "Sounds like he is certainly."

"Yeah, he is," Roland says, his eyes shifting from Mal to Regina. "So, can I keep him, Mom?"

Robin only shrugs as Regina looks to him for support, and then makes one last-ditch effort to convince the boys to return the frog back to the woods where they found him–and that's when Roland's eyes go wide and he confesses that Michy has a hurt leg and doesn't hop very well.

Henry grins as Regina sighs, and Robin can't help but laugh as she reluctantly nods, giving in and conceding to letting them keep the frog and bring him home to be their pet.

"You know," Mal begins, drawing in a breath as she shifts her bag onto her lap. "I bet he's an incredibly photogenic frog, after all, he's named after the one and only Cary Grant."

"Do you have your camera?" Roland asks, practically bouncing as Mal nods and reaches into her bag, pulling out the camera. "Can we really take pictures of him?"

"Well, this isn't a very fancy one and I don't have any lenses that'll help get cool angles, or anything, but… I think this will do." And then pauses, looking up at him and Regina. "Unless…"

"No, no, no," Robin cuts in, shaking his head and laughing. "We've set aside the whole day, so if that includes a photoshoot of the frog, so be it."

It doesn't take much more than that for Roland and Henry to scramble to their feet, grabbing hold of Mal's hands and pulling her up, leaving him and Regina to follow as they lead her to their cabin.

Robin reaches for Regina's hand as they trail behind, pulling her to him and pressing a kiss to her cheek. "This is going well."

"It is," she agrees. "Incredibly so."

"They like her."

"Of course they do. She's single handedly the most interesting person on the planet. She knows everything."

Nodding, Robin laughs. "Including all sorts of things about frogs."

"I really don't know how she keeps it all straight."

Robin shrugs and again, presses a quick and fleeting kiss to her cheek. "I don't know," he says, "but I have a good feeling about all of this."

"Yeah?"

He nods, feeling light and happy, unburdened by the uncertainty the last few months have brought–and as a laugh bubbles up from him, he runs to catch up to Mal and the boys, dragging Regina along behind him.

They spend the better part of the day laughing and catching up with Roland and Henry. Roland shows them the frog and Mal snaps a few pictures–a few of just the frog and one of the boys both holding him–and then, she tells them to all gather around under a giant weeping willow. Robin lifts Roland–who has Michy in his hands–onto his hip as Regina hugs Henry into her side. Mal takes the picture and then another of them each kissing one of the boys cheeks–and then as she deems it a perfect picture, Regina calls for her to jump into the shot.

"Oh," she murmurs shaking her head. "No, I–"

"Come on," Robin calls out, waving her over. "I know that camera has a timer."

"Yeah, set it up on the windowsill."

Again she hesitates–and Robin feels his heart swell up as Roland calls out to her, inviting her into the picture, insisting that it's what Michy wants. He grins as Mal looks to Regina and then to him, and he offers a slight smile as she draws in a breath and turns to the windowsill, setting the camera up and turning the timer.

She draws in another breath as she quickly joins them, and as both he and Regina slip an arm around her back, she grins a bit nervously. Then, just before the camera flashes, she smiles–a warm, genuine smile that again makes his heart flutter and swell.

A perfect picture, he thinks–one that'll definitely be copied and framed.

They visit a while longer, staying through lunch, and then when a bell sounds, announcing that it's time to swim, the boys get a little restless as they watch their friends run to the lake–and so that's the moment they decide to say goodbye. Regina hugs them for a bit longer then, nearly in tears by the time they leave, and as the boys run off to the lake to join the other kids, Robin folds his arm around her shoulder, pressing a quick kiss to her temple, reminding her that it'll only be another two weeks before the kids are home again and driving her mad, leaving their shoes on the stairs and spilling their juice on her just before she's about to leave. He earns a little laugh–from both Regina and Mal–and as they reach the parking lot, he takes Mal by the hand, momentarily losing himself in the idea of what it'd be like for the five of them to be a family.

The power went out around half-past noon, and the storm that had been raging since that morning gave no sign of letting up.

They'd spent the better part of the afternoon eating up the food in Granny's freezer that would go bad–which meant they had ice cream sundaes, made ice cream sandwiches with graham crackers and ate the day-old pie with a side of more ice cream. Granny lit candles and lined them up along the counter, and put a sign in the window that said everything that day would be half-off of a limited menu. Early on, a few rain-soaked stragglers wandered in, ordering whatever she had to offer them. By three, though, the storm picked up, people stopped coming in and Granny closed the diner, and sent them upstairs with the a tray of lunch meat and cheese and a large loaf of bread that was meant for the day's bread baskets, while she retreated to her own apartment to read before what little daylight there was went away for the night.

Back upstairs, Regina rolled the meats and cheese and Robin cut up the bread while Mal made a few dipping sauces with some of the condiments in their warming fridge and spices from the cabinet. They lit candles and spread them around the apartment, and spent the next several hours snacking and talking and playing cards and parlor-type games.

And then, Reigna remembered the wine they'd opened the night before–and almost as soon as she remembered it, she was up to retrieve it and pouring it into three glasses. They finished off the wine as they played another round of Crazy Eights–and as she emptied the rest of the bottle into her own glass, downing it like she would a shot, she decided she was done with cards.

"I want to play something else," Regina announces, tossing down her cards.

"That's just because you're losing."

'It's not."

"It is," Robin laughs. "You're always such a sore loser."

Her eyes roll and a smirk edges onto her lips. "We've been playing for hours."

Mal shrugs. "Okay. I suppose you have another idea?"

Robin frowns. "When I wanted to play Pin the Tail on the Donkey, no one wanted to play."

Regina watches as Mal's brows lift, her eyes widening as she looks to her. "It's dark. We'd end up tipping over a candle and lighting the place on fire and I am sure that would lead to us being evicted."

A smirk forms on Robin's lips. "You can't be evicted if–"

"Oh my god, that's not that point!"

Giggling, Mal tosses down her cards. "We don't have a donkey… or something we could use as one, and you don't have any pushpins." Reaching out, Mal touches her hand to Robin's arm. "Possibility of accidental arson aside, it just wasn't going to work."

Robin frowns and crosses his arms. "So, what do you have in mind?"

"Spin the bottle."

"We're not thirteen," Robin says, still sounding bitter over his Pin the Tail idea being shot down for a second time. "Besides, the point of that–"

"Fine. I'll just make out with Mal the whole time."

"I would not be opposed to that," Mal tells her, laughing softly. "The more I think about it, it's sounding better and better."

"Isn't the point to just… quickly kiss someone and get embarrassed and–"

"Well, I was thinking we could play a… modified version, actually."

"Modified," Robin repeats, finally setting down his cards. "How?"

"So, Jefferson actually gave me the idea," she says, biting down on her lip. "We'll use the egg timer–that's how long the kiss will last."

"Okay," Mal murmurs. "I like that idea."

"So, we'll spin the bottle to see who we'll be kissing, and then we'll pick where we get to kiss."

In spite of himself, a grin tugs onto Robin's lips. "And that can be… anywhere?"

Regina nods. "Anywhere."

"Okay," Robin concedes. "That does sound fun."

"Better than Pin the Tail?" Mal asks, giggling softly as she clears the coffee table.

His eyes roll, but he nods. "Fine. Yes. This game sounds better."

"Good. I'm glad that making out with us sounds better than pinning a ribbon to a cardboard donkey's ass."

"Much better."

"I'll go get the timer," she says, pulling herself up and retreating into the kitchen, quickly finding the timer and grabbing a handful of mints.

By the time she rejoins them in the living room, they've pushed the coffee table aside and put some pillows on the floor. Robin is lighting a fire and Mal is moving the candles to the living room side of the apartment–and she feels her stomach flutter with excitement.

This is going to be fun.

Regina moves to the center of the room, sitting down on one of the pillows as she tips the wine bottle on its side and sets the timer next to it. Mal sits down next to her, then a moment later, Robin joins them, and they all decide that since this game was her idea, she should get to go first.

She laughs when her stomach flutters as she reaches for the bottle, giving it a spin–and she laughs again as it lands on Robin and he shrugs his eyebrows at her in a way she's not sure if he means to be seductive or silly, or perhaps, a mixture of both.

Mal sets the timer as Regina asks for him to kiss the spot just behind her ear–the one that always makes her feel a bit weak in the knees–and for three minutes, exactly, he does just that. Mal goes next and the bottle lands on Regina and for three solid minutes, her lips flutter against Mal's neck–and then, she watches as Robin and Mal trade open-mouthed kisses, their tongues sliding against the other's as she feels warmth stirring at her core.

For awhile, they just trade kisses–lips on lips or lips on skin, and nothing lasts long enough for any of them to get really riled up. But all of that changes one of her turns when she asks for Mal to kiss her neck, and as Mal scoots toward her, slipping her hand over her hip to draw her in, she pulls off her t-shirt and turns her back to Mal, grinning back at her from over her shoulder and pressing her fingers to the spot on her neck that she wants Mal to kiss. She giggles a bit as Mal leans in, her breath tickling her skin–and as her eyes shift up to Robin, she watches him swallowing hard as he struggles to decide where he wants to focus his attention, struggling to choose between watching Mal's lips and tongue sliding against her neck or staring at Regina's bare breasts.

She feels an odd sense of victory when he swallows again, unabashedly gawking at her chest–and she's glad that she didn't bother with a bra that morning–then, when the timer sounds, marking the end of her three minutes, a little whimper escapes her as she thinks about where that moment might have led without the timer.

She notices though that the next kiss–one between Mal and Robin–is a bit more urgent, their hands exploring more freely and their lips reluctant to part as the timer sounds. She's almost glad that it gets to continue when Robin's spin lands again on Mal, and Mal doesn't even pick her spot. Instead, she nearly crawls into his lap to pick up where they left off–and Regina lets out a low moan as she enjoys the show they put on for her as she kneads her breasts and squeezes her thighs together, feeling how wet she's getting.

Frustrated at the ringing timer, she sighs, reaching to silence it as Mal and Robin slowly break apart–and it occurs to her to just ask them to keep going and forget the game altogether. But then, she considers it again and reaches for the bottle, spinning it and grinning as it lands on Robin–and before she can even pick a spot to be kissed, Robin reaches for her, pulling her into his arms. He kisses her lips and then drags his lips down her throat and across her clavicle.

"More," she breathes out, enjoying the contrast of his wet lips on her hot skin. "I want–" Her breath catches as his lip form around her nipple as his tongue swirls around it and the other hand kneads at the other breast–then, the damn timer sounds, and Robin offers a guilty and disappointed little grin as he pulls away from her.

Reigna feels her heart beating a bit faster as Mal reaches for the bottle, giving it a spin as she bites down on her lip–and when it lands on Robin. She offers him a mischievous little grin and climbs back into his lap. His hands slip underneath her shirt and Regina watches as Mal's fingers work quickly to work down his zipper, and as soon as it's down, her hand slips into his pants.

Feeling herself grow wetter, Regina grimaces as the timer goes off–and it takes another minute for Mal and Robin to pull apart. Still holding onto her, Robin gives the bottle a quick spin and when the bottle lands on Mal, he wastes no time asking for a blowjob.

Regina's mouth waters as she watches Mal pull him out, her lips forming around the tip of his cock as her lips slowly slide down the length of him, and as Regina holds the timer in her hand, she decides not to set it–they've clearly moved on from the game. Tossing the timer aside, she reaches around herself, tugging at the button on the back of her skirt, pulling it off while her eyes remain locked on them. Her hand dips below the waistband of her panties, and her fingers slide through the wetness between her legs–and as she watches Mal pleasuring Robin, she pleasures herself.

At some point, they realize that the timer never went off and that it's been well-past their allotted three minutes. Mal pulls her mouth off of him, sitting up as her hand continues to slip slowly up and down his shaft, and as she starts to ask, Regina shakes her head.

"Keep going," she insists, her voice husky and full of lust. "This is way more fun."

"You're enjoying the show?"

She nods. "Of course."

"Then maybe we can give you a real show."

Her finger slips inside of herself as she nods, swallowing hard as Mal lets go of Robin, tugging off her shirt and the tank top she's wearing in place of a bra, and as Robin does the same, quickly removing his shirt and lifting his hips as he pulls off his shorts and boxers, as Mal shimmies out of the tight jean shorts she's been wearing–and it's only then that Regina realizes she's lacking underwear.

"What?" She asks, shrugging innocently as she looks to Regina. "It's hot and I like the friction." Regina swallows hard as Mal lowers herself back down, offering her a quick wink as her eyes slide down her body, watching as she rubs herself beneath her underwear. "And I don't know why you're still bothering with those."

Robin laughs as Mal winks at Regina, and then as Mal turns back to him, she draws herself up on her knees. Her hand forms around his cock as she pumps her fist over him, kissing him as her other palm rest on his chest–and as she watches them, Regina slips off her panties, spreading her legs and giving herself more access to her own body.

She slips a second finger inside of herself as Mal repositions herself, knees on either side of Robin's legs as she faces Regina. Robin's hands find her hips, helping her find the right spot as she slowly sinks down onto him–and Regina swallows hard, as she watches Robin's cock disappear into Mal.

It occurs to her that they don't have any sort of protection with them–that's all in the bedroom, or maybe the bathroom, depending on the kind and who last put away what.

But protection is a fleeting thought–the rest of the apartment is dark and she's too interested in the scene unfolding before her to get up and grope around aimlessly in the bedroom or bathroom in search of something. Besides, things are already underway and it wouldn't be the first time they'd gone without.

So, she just lays back and enjoys, fingering herself and watching as Mal's head falls back and her eyes close, a low moan escaping her as Robin's hand wraps around her, two fingers rubbing circles over her clit as his lips suck at her neck. Mal's hips begin to rock and even if she wanted to, Regina couldn't tear her eyes away from them; she's captivated, watching as Robin slips in and out of Mal, watching the way they move together, watching how gorgeous they are, how erotic they are and–

"You know, even though it looks like you're having a pretty good time over, there," Mal says, interrupting Regina's thoughts with her low and breathy voice. "I bet you'd have a better time over here with us."

Nodding, Regina pulls her fingers away from herself and moves toward them, folding her legs beneath her body as she leans against Robin's legs–and then, as Regina looks up at them, she grins, reaching for Robin's hand, kissing his palm before turning her attention to Mal's clit.

Mal's hand pushes into her hair and Robin's hand slides over her ass, rubbing roughly against her skin–and as the rain pounds against the windows and the fire crackles behind them, she's glad they've found something to entertain themselves that they all can enjoy.

Instead of driving home after visiting Roland and Henry at camp, they drove further upstate to the house on the lake that Mal had brought them to years before. The sky was still light when they arrived, and the house was a bit musty, but that was a problem a few open windows could easily solve.

They'd picked up some food and drinks in a small little town in the middle of nowhere, and stopped off at the post office to make a few calls. Regina called Belle, letting her know that she wouldn't be in that Monday and that things with Archie seemed to go well, then Robin called his secretary. He didn't provide a reason that he wouldn't be in and he kept the call short. As Regina's brow arched at the brevity of the call, he shrugged and feigned concern that he'd be fired for his absence–and then in a serious voice, he admitted it'd taken everything in him not to quit right then and there, but, of course, that wasn't his secretary's burden and it wasn't fair to put it on her.

She'd nodded understandingly and reminded him that it'd all be over soon, and he'd kissed her cheek and nodded, thanking her for understanding. Then, they didn't talk about it anymore–and in a way, she was glad for that. Uncertainty had never been something she was comfortable with. She liked to be in control of things, in control of her life–that's what made Mal leaving such a difficult thing for her to wrap her head around, that's what made her resistant to Robin leaving their firm, it was why she went to college and then to law school, it was why she resisted her mother's desire for her to marry well and become like all the other girls of her age and class. And now, there was the uncertainty of Mal's fate and their careers, the uncertainty of getting Mal to see that a future is possible, then of course, what that future would look like–but the difference between then and now is that she is sure of what she wants, sure of who she wants to spend her time with and what was important in life, and for the first time in as long as she can remember, pushing away the uncertainty and assuming things would work out as they should was becoming easier and easier.

She'd linked her arm though Robin's and went outside to where Mal was–and they laughed as she stood with a map fought with the wind.

Robin offered her a quick wink before stepping away and linking an arm around Mal's waist, drawing her into him and kissing her cheek–and Regina held her hand as they walked to the car.

On the way up to the cottage, Robin drove and Mal helped him navigate the way–and all the while, Regina rested her head on Mal's shoulder and thought about the roadtrip Robin would sometimes talk about taking. Her eyes closed as she listened to their voices–Mal giving Robin a direction and Robin questioning, and though she couldn't see her face, she knew the look Mal was giving him, and it was confirmed when Robin offered a chuckle and an apology.

It was still light outside when they reached the cottage, and Regina smiled at the sight of it–it looked exactly the same, and the memories of swimming in the lake and sleeping on the goose feather down mattress well into the late hours of the morning.

The house was musty when they arrived, and while Robin and Mal started dinner, she went around opening windows, fanning out blankets and dusting off surfaces. They settled on the patio looking over the hilly green landscape and the lake beyond it, watching as the sun set as they ate dinner and drank the wine Mal had bought when they were making their calls from the post office.

None of them had realized just how stressful the past few days had been, or how much they needed a little down time, away from everything and everyone. From Robin breaking into Gold's office to Mal's panic attack to Granny's admission while they visited to seeing Archie (and all that that entailed) to introducing Mal to the boys, everything that had happened had their emotions and adrenaline running high; and though aside from Mal's panic attack, those had all been good things meant to alleviate a bit of the stress they'd felt over the course of the last several weeks, it'd left them exhausted, and none them seemed to realize it until they sat down to dinner on the patio.

Waiting was never an easy thing to do–and she could only imagine that it was a thousand times harder for Mal–but being at the cottage made it easier, and they were all grateful for the short reprieve.

For a day and a half, they didn't talk about Stefan Perrault or the pending trial, they didn't talk about Robert Gold or rich men who paid their way through the world instead of earning things, and they didn't talk about the future, whatever it might hold. Instead they just talked–about everything else. They talked about the last time they were there and what fun they had. They talked about the scenery around the house and the house itself, as Mal gave a detailed overview of its history–how it was built and it's original purpose, what it was like before the Depression set in and it became a private residence. It sparked a memory of something Regina read–a story in Reader's Digest she'd read while waiting for the boys to get their teeth cleaned the year before–and she recounted it, for them–and of course, for Robin and Mal, that spurred stories of their own.

It was well-past four in the morning when they'd finally gone in and gone to bed–collapsing onto it immediately and asleep nearly as soon as their heads met their pillows–and the next morning, they'd spent a lazy day exploring the land around the house, eventually ending up at the lake. An old hammock was set up and they took a nap there–and eventually, when Robin tried to get up without disturbing them, he flipped them all over onto the ground and they'd laughed and laughed until there were tears streaming down their cheeks.

They'd all regretted having to leave, but they hadn't much choice.

Regina had given Archie her office number, and any day now, he'd be calling with an update. Though she was sure Belle could be there to take the call, she wanted to hear it for herself–and of course, Robin was trying not to let on that anything was going on so that Gold–and more importantly, Leopold Perrault–wouldn't get suspicious.

So, after their return, everything had been business as usual–and they tried to act like that was true as they waited for the phone to ring.

Robin continued to suck up to Gold–asking more questions about creating evidence and asking for help in doing so, and to his amusement and frustration, Gold obliged his requests. And of course, Robin took detailed notes of their conversations, and more notes on the results of the conversations; then, for good measure, he shipped them off to Archie. Regina's brow arched when a bill arrived at her office for a hotel room reserved in Robin's name, and he's sighed as he admitted that because Mal was so worried about appearances, he's reserved a room at the hotel and made an effort to visit once or twice a day to make it appear that he was actually using the room.

She'd grinned and kissed him, and then handed him the bill, teasing him about having a place for rendezvous with his fake girlfriend.

She wasn't sure what she thought of it, but the double life they were leading was starting to feel normal–and once again, she was attached to being one of three rather than one of two.

More importantly, Mal seemed to be becoming used to it.

Mal seemed happy–and that made her happy.

She'd taken up cooking on a more serious note–after unearthing a copy of The Joy of Cooking at the cottage. She'd paperclipped pages and convinced Regina to get the needed ingredients–and one morning, she and Robin woke up to find Mal, sitting crossed-legged on the counter, looking through recipe cards that were tucked away in the kitchen cabinet. It was the same box she'd found when she first came to stay with them–all of which had pictures clipped to them–and neither Robin nor Regina dared point out to her that all of the recipes she was chose from the box were ones that were favorites of their sons.

But whether they admitted it or not, or if Mal was aware of it or not, something had shifted–and that something seemed to point to the very real possibility of the three of them finally building a life together and finding the happiness none of them ever quite believed they could have.

Mal frowns as she looks between them. "You're all dressed up and I've ruined everything."

"No," Robin's quick to say.

"You haven't ruined anything," Regina insists.

His eyes shift to Regina and he sighs–judging by the look on Mal's face, she's not convinced, and he's not quite sure how to convince her otherwise.

They'd made plans to go out that night–to go to the jazz club they'd been to before to drink and laugh, to listen to good music and have a good time. Mal rented a hotel room for the night, so none of them had to worry about driving back, and she'd paid extra for a late-night meal to be prepared for them when they got back.

Admittedly, he'd been looking forward to it–it wasn't often that the three of them were able to go out, but he'd never admit that, especially not when Mal was looking at them with wide, guilty eyes and apologizing to them for not feeling well.

"And I cancelled on you last week, too."

"You had the flu," Regina says, sighing as she sinks down onto the edge of the bed as she stretches an arm around her Mal's shoulders. "And from the looks of things, you still have a touch of it."

"I was feeling better," Mal says looking to her. "I swear I was."

"I believe it," Regina tells her, leaning in and pressing a kiss to her forehead. "And even if you weren't–that's okay, too."

"Yeah," Robin agrees. "We're just glad that you're here."

A half-hearted smile tugs at one corner of Mal's mouth. "Even if I'm… puking in your bathroom and napping on your couch and–"

Sinking down to his his knees he grins and slides his hands up over her knees. "Even then."

Regina presses a kiss to her temple and his chest tightens a bit as Mal's head falls to her shoulder. Regina rubs her hand over Mal's arm, for a for a minute, they all just sit there together–until Regina gets up and announces she's actually relieved not be going out that night because it means less time confined by her slip and bra. Mal laughs and Robin's eyes roll as Regina reaches for a pair of jeans and a soft blue oversized sweater–and disappears into the bathroom, letting out a loud, audible sigh to indicate to them her bra has been removed.

"She's just trying to make me feel better."

"Is it working?"

"A little."

"Good," Robin says, shifting himself up onto the bed and pressing a quick kiss to Mal's lips. "I'm glad."

Biting down on her lip, Mal looks over at him, almost shyly. "You know," she begins. "I realize that I've just gotten sick and purged myself of anything I've eaten today, and if I do still have the flu, I should stick to things like tea and toast, but–"

"Nonsense," Robin cuts in. "The last time I had the flu, I stuffed myself with pizza."

"And I assume you also… unstuffed it from yourself?"

He laughs and nods. "Regina was pretty pissed."

"She had to clean it up?"

He nods, offering a sheepish grin. "I had the flu!"

"And she had the right to be pissed off."

"What were you going say, though," he asks, rubbing the back of his hand over her cheek. She flinches a bit at his touch, but quickly nuzzles her face against his shoulder and he thinks he may have just imagined her first reaction. "Before I interrupted you that is."

"I could go for some soup."

"Soup is good for the flu."

"Chicken noodle," she says. "Granny's."

"Ah, even better. You won't be waiting hours and hours for me to collect the ingredients and then find a recipe and then make and, then of course, shoo Regina from the kitchen."

"Where are you shooing me away from?" Regina asks, stepping out of the bathroom as she looks between them–and a grin pulls onto Robin's lips. While she looks absolutely stunning dressed up, he likes her best casual–and this look is one of his favorites. Her jeans are tight and stop just above her ankle, and there's a small rip just above one of the knees. Her sweater is her favorite color and it's too big to sit properly on her shoulders and no matter what she does, the sweater just won't stay put, always falling down off of her shoulder to reveal the strap of the white tank top she wears beneath it. Her hair is pulled into a ponytail and she's taken off her makeup–and for a moment, he's taken aback by how beautiful she is. "I could only half hear you, but I wholeheartedly agree that we should go downstairs and get some chicken noodle soup."

"The kitchen," Mal supplies.

"Ah, that's… probably for the best, but… why are you shoo-ing me?"

Laughing, Robin shakes his head. "Never mind."

Regina shrugs and looks to him as she sits down on the opposite side of Mal. "Why don't you go change and I'll find you something to wear," she says, pressing her forehead against Mal's and pecking at her cheek. "Something comfy."

Robin nods, getting up and grinning as he watches them for a moment–and watching the way Mal just sort of melts into Regina's touch.

He keeps an eye on them as he absently chooses a pair of jeans and a gray t-shirt, still watching as he moves to the bathroom to change. He does so as quick as he can, splashing some water on his face before pulling the medicine cabinet open, and surveying its contents. There are still some horehound drops and the eucalyptus rub Granny made him when he had a nasty head cold earlier that year. He reaches for both, the continues to scan, shaking two geritol tablets out of their jar and reaching for the box of alka-seltzer. He fills a paper cup with water and rips open the alka-seltzer packet with his teeth, dropping it into the water and watching it fizzle–and then, drawing in a breath, he collects it all and rejoins them in the bedroom.

"Here, I have–"

He stops, a smile tugging on to his lips as his eyes fall to Mal and Regina. Mal is standing there in a pair of Regina's jeans–which are far too short, coming up to her calves, like a pair of loose petal pushers–and on top she's wearing one of his flannel button up shirts. The sleeves are rolled to her elbow and its knotted just above her waist, and because of the way she's standing, with her arms up as she pulls her hair up into a bun, a little strip of skin is showing between the jeans and the shirt. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes look a bit brighter than they did before, and he finds himself with three thoughts–the first, he hopes this means she's feeling better, and secondly, she's absolutely gorgeous–glowing, almost–and third, that he is a lucky, lucky man.

"Take this," he tells her, handing her the paper cup as Regina turns to the closet, rummaging through it, in search of something. "And take these with it."

She doesn't question it, she just nods and accepts them, taking a quick sip of the alka-seltzer, then tossing back the tablets, washing them down with the rest of the seltzer.

"Keep a few of these in your pocket," he instructs, handing her the horehound drops as he a little grin pulls on to her lips. "And maybe rub a bit of this onto your chest. It smells, but it'll help."

"Thank you," she says, stuffing the drops into her pocket and unbuttoning the first top buttons of the shirt, opening it up–and he struggles not to gawk at her bare breasts, hiding underneath the blousy flannel. "How much?"

Regina looks back at them, grinning before returning her attention to whatever it is she's looking for, and he unscrews the cap of the rub and dips his fingers into it, pulling up a generous amount. He reaches out, pausing his fingers to her chest and rubbing on the eucalyptus. "Breathe in when you're feeling sick," he tells her.

"It works," Regina adds. "And I like the smell."

"It's not bad," Mal admits, a bit awkwardly buttoning up the shirt again. "I'm feeling better already."

"Good."

"And I found the shoes!"

Robin laughs a little as Regina lifts up a pair of delicate looking canvas sneakers as Mal's brow arches, laughing softly as she grimaces. "That's especially good because I wasn't at all convinced that I'd actually left them here."

They finally finish dressing–the girls putting on their shoes, and Regina insisting he take a sweater–and as they head down the hall toward the stairs that lead to the diner, he pulls on the dark gray cardigan that Regina tossed to him as they left the bedroom.

The diner isn't very crowded, given that it's dinnertime–and he finds that to be a relief. Granny grins as they slip into their favorite booth and she heads over to their table, her brow furrowing as she approaches. "I thought you kids were going out for a night on the town."

"Change of plans," Mal says.

"Yeah, we're just going to take it easy tonight, instead."

"She's not feeling well," Regina explains. "So we're here for some chicken noodle soup and tea."

"A wise choice," Granny says, her eyes narrowing. "What's the matter?"

"Oh, I just… I think I have a touch of the flu."

"Didn't you have the flu last week?"

She nods. "It's just sort of… lingering."

For a moment, Granny just stands there, biting down on her lip as she stares at Mal. "Have you been to a doctor?"

"No," she admits. "But if this keeps up, I'm afraid I'll have to."

Reaching out, Granny rubs her hand over Mal's back. "Sooner rather than later, sweetheart–and you let me know if you need anything, alright? Anything, at all."

"Thank you."

"Okay," Granny says, drawing in a breath, "Three soups, or are the two of you having something else?"

"Soup actually sounds amazing," Regina tells her. "Maybe with some bread?"

"And tea," Mal adds.

"With extra honey," Granny tells her, winking. "Anything else?"

"Could ours be iced tea," Robin asks, motioning between him and Regina. "If you have it."

"I do," she assures them, grinning–once more lingering her gaze on Mal. "So, tea–one hot, two iced–and three bowls of chicken noodle soup." She pauses, finally looking away from Mal, her eyes shifting between them all, and he finds it a bit peculiar that they seem a bit misty. "And I'll give you some of the good crusty bread that's good for dipping." And then her eyes shift to him, her eyes narrowing and no longer looking teary, making him think he was only imagining it. "And before you sneak into the kitchen for seconds when I'm not looking, these are bottomless bowls, so there's no use in stealing more. Just ask and I'll be happy to bring you more."

At that, Regina and Mal giggle softly and he nods–and then as Granny retreats back into the kitchen, they both burst out laughing.

Not long after, Granny returns with their teas and the soup and bread, and they fall into an easy conversation as they eat. Granny gives them all second-servings, and as they finish up, Mal decides she's feeling well-enough for a walk.

Granny refuses to let them pay as they leave, and like the diner, Main Street isn't all that crowed and neither is the park they eventually end up at. They settle on a bench with Mal between him and Regina. He holds her hand and her head rests on Regina's shoulder. No one says very much, they all just sit together quietly–quietly and comfortable, completely at ease with each other.

By the time they end up back at the apartment, cuddled underneath a blanket and listening to an Eddy Duchin and Tony Leonard record that Regina picked up at the library. He's nearly asleep when a soft knock rasps at the door, and as he lifts his head, he watches Mal and Regina pull apart, putting some distance between them–and he sighs regretfully as he pulls himself up to answer it.

"I know it's late," Granny says. "But, um… I have something for you." Her eyes shift from him to Mal. "Can I come in?"

Stepping out of the way, he nods, watching as she lifts a brown paper bag, carrying it to the coffee table and sitting down beside it as both Mal and Regina perk up.

"Hear me out on this, okay?" she says, looking to Mal. "Lemon water," she says, pulling a glass jar out of the back. "Keep it cold. Drink this whole thing tomorrow."

"Okay…"

"And when you start to feel nauseous, give it a sniff. It won't cure you, but it'll make you feel better."

"Thank you, that's–"

"There's more," Granny cuts in. "Tomorrow morning, I'm going to make you some oatmeal. It's easy on the stomach, and I have a whole can of it in the bag. That should last you for a few months, though your nausea won't last that long."

Mal offers a little laugh as her eyes widen. "I'd hope not."

"Do you know how to make it?"

"Um, yeah," she nods, smiling gently. "I do."

"There's also a tin of cereal and another filled with crackers. Dry foods help." Taking a breath, she peers down in the bag, and he and Regina exchange somewhat confused looks. "There's peppermint tea in here, too," she says, looking back up. "

"You should have been a nurse," Mal says, as Granny reaches for her hand, giving it a tight squeeze. "This is–"

"The least I can do for you," Granny says, hesitating a moment before leaning in a pressing a quick kiss to Mal's cheek. "And remember, if you need anything, you just let me know… no matter what it is."

"You're… too kind," Mal tells her, smiling gently as Granny takes a step back. "Thank you."

"It's not too kind," Granny says. "It's… just what you do for people you love." She gives Mal a quick wink, then glances between him and Regina. "Take care of her, okay?"

"We will," they say in unison as Robin walks her to the door–and then, as he closes the door behind her, he doesn't bother to reflect on her visit or the odd feeling it gave him, as if there was something else going on, something he hadn't quite picked up on or didn't understand. Instead, he gets back onto the couch with Regina and Mal, cuddling them both and listening to the music as that comfortable silence once more falls between them, and eventually, one by one, they drift off to sleep.

Judge Hopper calls their home phone, just after dinner, about a little less than a week later.

Regina's heart beats so fast that she almost can't hear him and she actively has to remind herself to breathe as Archie thanks her and Robin for bringing the issue to him, and tells her to thank Robin for the supplemental materials he sent along–and it takes everything in her not to interrupt and flat out ask what this means for Mal.

And just when she thinks she can't stand it any longer, something in Archie's voice changes and her heartbeat slows.

"Regina, I have good news for you," he says. "The Board reviewed Millicent's case, and… none of us can see any reason this should go to trial. She acted in self-defense, that's very clear to all of us."

She can't quite describe what she feels–the relief and elation, the anger and even hate toward Gold and the Perraults–and her chest aches with emotion as tears fill her eyes as Archie goes on to explain that they're launching an investigation into Robert Gold based on the information she and Robin provided, and that while this whole thing isn't quite over, "I can say that it's a good as over for your client–for your friend."

He talks a little longer, giving her some basic logical information of how things will proceed from this point on, but she barely hears it–she just hears him repeating again and again and again, that for Mal, this whole nightmare that she's been living for all these years is finally over.

It's over and she survived it.

And now, she can move on, and put the past behind her.

She thanks him profusely as they hang up and barely remembers going back down the stairs to where Robin and Mal are standing at the sink, doing the dishes.

For a moment, she just stands there–staring at them, staring at her–and then, she clears her throat.

"That, um… that was Archie Hopper."

Robin and Mal both turn, their eyes wide and Mal's hands trembling–and when her breath catches audibly in her throat and her face starts to crumple at the sight of Regina's tears, Regina smiles and shakes her head.

"The Board reviewed your case, and agreed with Robin and me. The State doesn't have a case against you. It's over. It's done."

For a moment, Mal just stands there–and then, the importance of what she's just said hits her. Robin's arm folds around her shoulders to support her as her hands come up to cover her mouth and tears spill over her eyes–and as Regina crosses the kitchen, she hears a little laugh escape her, and as soon as she reaches her, she pulls her into her arms, holding her as they cry happy tears together.

Finally, after they've all composed themselves, they all sit down at the kitchen table, and Regina takes them through the phone call with Archie–and in spite of how little she felt like she heard, she remembers a surprising amount of detail.

She explains that they checked the bank accounts and the transactions that occurred–and just as they suspected, the accounts traced back to Leopold Perrault–and given Gold's fervor to take the case to trial and lack of care over validity of the evidence presented, it seemed clear that Leo Perrault was paying Gold for a conviction–and Gold intended to deliver it.

The connection between Robin and Mal had thrown him for a loop, or so Archie and the rest of the board felt, and the information Robin sent, seemed to suggest two things–Gold felt he could corrupt Robin and use what he believed was a fractured marriage to his advantage, and that he'd likely done this sort of thing before.

And that's what the Board intended to investigate.

Throughout her recap of the phone conversation, Robin held Mal's hand, and Mal kept breathing out little comments like I don't believe this and Is this really happening?, and each time she did, Regina paused the story to assure her that she could, in fact, believe it and it really was happening.

"So, it just… it just goes away?" Mal asks, looking to her, her eyes filled with emotion and disbelief. "It really just…"

"Yeah," Regina says, reaching out and taking her hand, giving it a tight squeeze. "Just like that."

"Well, there's the investigation," Robin reminds them. "That'll take some time, but it won't affect any of us much." He shrugs. "Unless they need more information, but that shouldn't have anything to do with you," he says looking to Mal, unable to stop his smile.

"Um, how… how long will that take?"

"I don't know," Robin admits.

"It all depends on how deep it goes. It could be a couple of weeks or months, but like Robin said, it won't involve you."

Mal nods–and Regina's eyes shift to Robin. She's not quite sure Mal is processing it–she's just sitting there, staring out at the center of the table. Still, she's holding onto her hand and Robin's rubbing her back, and for a moment, they both just sit there

"Mal?"

"Are you–"

"I just… I don't know what to say," she says, looking up and looking between them, tears glistening in her eyes. "Thank you just… seems… like it's not enough."

"You don't even have to say that."

"Regina, I–"

"I'm serious," she insists. "You hired me to ensure that you didn't go to jail for killing Stefan. This is what I was supposed to do." And then, a smile pulls on her lips as her fingers form loosely around Mal's wrist. "Then, of course, there's the fact that I love you and would never just stand by and just see how things turned out."

"We owed it to you," Robin admits. "We should have fought for–"

"No–"

"Yes," he cuts in, shaking his head. "We should have followed you. We should have… tried harder."

"I was a world away and I didn't want you to find me. I–"

"You were protecting us," Reigna says. "And I think you did want us to find you. I think you wanted us to save you. I just don't think you ever saw a way for that to be possible–not then."

"It would have been messy and I'm sure there would have been consequences," Robin tells her. "But we'll never really know and–"

"It's not your fault," Mal tells him, her voice small as she shakes her head. "I was so sure that I needed to–"

"And we needed to do this," Regina says. "You put everything on the line to protect us, now it was our turn to return that favor." Mal nods, smiling a little as Regina's thumb rubs at her wrist. "And no matter what you say, I think Robin's right. You wanted to find a way back to us. If you didn't, you'd have never shown up in my office that day. You'd have let your family's lawyers handle things without getting me involved."

Mal's brow furrows. "I… I hadn't really thought of that."

"And I think I can speak for both if us when I say that I am awfully glad you did involve us."

"I am, too," she admits. "And not just because you somehow managed to make this nightmare go away, but… but because I… I've really loved being with you two again." Drawing in a deep breath, she looks between them again. "So, what… what happens next?"

"I think that's up to you," Robin says.

"You have your life back."

Mal nods and a hint of a smile tugs up at the corner of her mouth. "I… I barely know what that feels like… what it feels like to be in-charge of my own life and able to make my own decisions." Her cheeks flush as she shrugs. "I know it sounds silly, but I never really… let myself entertain the idea that this was possible. All those times you asked if I wanted to stay, I never really believed that I'd get the choice."

"Well, you do."

"And you know where we stand," Robin adds, grinning as he offers her a playful little wink.

"Do you want to stay?"

Mal hesitates, then offers a half nod. "I do, but–"

"Then you should."

"But it's more complicated than that. It's not just about me and what I want."

"Reigna and I are very willing participants in this."

"That's true," Regina adds, nodding. "And if all three of us are in agreement, then–"

"What about Henry and Roland? What about your children?"

"They loved you."

Reigna nods. "They really did. Henry doesn't just take to people like that, and if you buy Roland an aquarium for that damn frog, you'll have his heart forever."

"I'm not sure buying their affection–"

"It wouldn't be buying it," Robin insists. "They already–"

"They met me once."

"And adored you," Regina says. "That won't change, especially not after they get to know you a bit more."

"How do you know that?"

"I know my kids."

"Regina–"

"She's right," Robin cuts in. "You clicked with them so easily and that sort of bond–"

"Would only last until they realized just how abnormal–"

"Different things work for different people. Families are–"

"A mom and a dad, and the kids." Biting down on her lip, she looks away, shaking her head. "Kids want to be normal. They want to fit in and be like everyone else."

"That's overrated," Robin says. "My family wasn't like that and I–"

Mal's brow arches skeptically. "I spent my whole life wanting to be normal and–"

"Can we just… table this for a little while?" Reigna asks, looking between them, her thumb still rubbing absently at Mal's wrist. "It's not like we'd just… hit them over the head with it. We'd ease them into it." She pauses and looks to Robin. "And I'd like to think we're raising boys who will grow up to be good, caring men who don't judge people because–"

"Kids aren't grown adults."

"That's true," Reigna says. "But our childhood experiences shape the adults we become."

"And you can never have too much love in your life," Robin tells her. "I think there's a very real possibility that they'll look back on being raised with three parents and be glad for it." He grins as his eyes shift to Regina as something changes in Mal's expression, softening as her eyes press closed–and it appears her resolve may be dwindling. "After all, now they can better pit us against each other–it can be two against one, if they play their cards right."

At that, Mal laughs. "As though two children stand a chance against two lawyers."

"You'd be surprised."

"Stunned, really," Robin says, laughing. "They're adorable but incredibly manipulative."

"Case in point," Regina says, arching her brow. "Roland now has a pet frog, and I mentioned my childhood trauma involving frogs."

"You've never been a fan of anything slimy."

"Or with more than two legs," Robin adds, grinning. "But this isn't tabling the discussion."

"No," Mal murmurs–a soft smile forming on her lips. "It's not."

"So… I have an idea," Regina says. "We'll give you a bit more time to consider–'

"What she means," Robin says, leaning in and whispering loudly in Mal's ear, "is that we'll give you more time to let us convince you."

Mal shakes her head, but her smile remains–and for the first time, she actually appears to be considering staying, considering giving them all a real second chance.

"Why don't we go back up to your cottage?" Regina suggests. "We'll get out of dodge, relax a bit and… do some thinking."

"Thinking–"

"Again, that's code for convincing," Robin tells her, once more whispering loudly in her ear.

"I got that," she whispers back. "But thank you." Then, she bites down on her lip. "I do love it up there."

"We do too," Robin says. "It's one of the few places with trees Regina tolerates well."

Regina rolls her eyes, but laughs softly. "We're not too far from Granny's. We could spend a day or two moseying around Main Street, visiting with Granny, going garage sale shopping and–"

"It's been ages since I've done that."

"You used to love it."

"I still do," she admits.

"And we can sit by the lake and swim and roast s'mores," Robin adds.

"And go on hikes," Mal says, looking to him. "The trails up there are gorgeous."

"I'll be sitting those out," Regina grins. "You two can hike. I'll nap in the hammock."

"It's perfect!"

Mal nods, drawing in a breath. "Yeah. It sounds it."

"And it'll give you some time to make up your mind."

"You're going to make it impossible for me to say no, aren't you?"

"That is the plan," Robin laughs. "We won't deny that."

"At any rate, you've more than earned a vacation… some time to just relax and enjoy yourself."

"Okay."

"Okay?" Reigna looks to Robin and then back to Mal. "So, you want to go up–"

"Yes."

"We'll leave in the morning," Robin decides. "After I go into the office and drop off my letter of resignation." He laughs a little as he says it, and Regina watches as a smile tugs up onto his lips. "My god, that's going to feel good."

"So… what's next?"

"I don't know," Robin admits. "Maybe I'll use the next couple of weeks to figure that out."

"I think we'll all have some things to figure out," Reigna says, shrugging. "All good things, I hope."

Mal nods, drawing in a breath. "I hope so, too."

"And until then," Regina says, standing up. "I think we need to celebrate." Mal's brow arches as Regina tugs her up, and a little laugh escapes her as she pulls her up against her, wrapping her arms low on her waist. "After all, you are a free woman."

Mal's cheeks flush and she nods as Robin joins them, sliding his hand across her back and placing a fluttery kiss to the nape of her neck–and again, Reigna watches as emotion overtakes her, but this time, she smiles through it.

They find Mal tucked away in a corner of the library, stretched out on her stomach with her face propped up against her fist. Regina looks to Robin and grins as they watch her kick her feet back and forth, completely unaware of their presence, lost in whatever it is that she's reading.

She's been with them for the past few days, and gave no indication as to when she'd be returning home–and if she wasn't going to bring it up, neither were they. They assumed her stay was, in part, due to still feeling a bit under the weather, and constant access to Granny's chicken soup. Her bouts of nausea came in waves and she still felt a bit weak, and they were more than glad to cuddle with her and take midday naps, and spend their evenings tucked into the back booth at Granny's sipping good soup that made them feel warm and cozy.

They'd both been surprised when she wanted to tag along to the library with them, but now looking at her, it was apparent that they shouldn't have been. She was comfortable here with endless entertainment.

"You look awfully interested in whatever that is," Regina says–a grin pulling onto her lips as Mal looks up. "What are you reading?"

"A collection of letters and diary entries from travelers along the Mormon trail." She pulls herself up and it seems like her whole face lights up. "It's just so interesting to read about their travels, their lifestyles, the things they worried about and–"

Mal stops as Robin chuckles softly.

"What?"

"Is there anything that doesn't interest you?"

Shrugging her shoulder, she barely seems to consider the question. "There's just… so much out there that so few of us will ever get to experience, and the world is such a big place with some many different–"

Again, her voice fades as she looks to Robin. "It's one of the many, many things I love about you."

She practically beams as she looks up at them. "So are you two done or–"

"We're done for today," Regina tells her, holding out her hand and helping her up. "Tomorrow is another story."

"Is is," Mal agrees, dog earring the page and tucking it back into its spot on the shelf. "So, I suppose I'll have to wait until then to find out if Josiah and Ada were ever able to sell their oxen."

Regina laughs as Mal turns back to them, and she links her arm though hers, pulling her close. "I suppose you will." Biting down on her lip, she scans the area to ensure they're all alone, and then she leans up onto the tips of her toes and presses a quick kiss to Mal's cheek. "You seem to be feeling better."

"A little," Mal nods. "I'm hoping I've finally kicked it."

"Is it… normal for the flu to last like this?" Robin asks. "I mean… it's been nearly two weeks."

"I don't know," Mal admits. "I read that there are different strains of the flu, sometimes they're worse and sometimes they last longer, sometimes they induce symptoms that other strains don't." Shrugging, she looks between them. "I'm just glad neither of you have caught it."

"I got my shot," Robin says, almost proudly.

"My mother doesn't believe in those," Mal sighs. "She forbid our family doctor from administering them to any of us." Rolling her eyes, Mal looks to Robin. "And look where it's gotten me."

"Well, I'm glad that I got the vaccination, too," Reigna says. "It's been nice having you here and being able to take care of you and… well, not end up sick alongside you."

"And I am glad that you guys don't mind because… I'm not sure I could manage this at home."

Robin's brow furrows and concern fills his eyes. "Why not?"

"Well, my parents are off in Newport until Friday, and Stefan's been hanging around, and…" she sighs as her eyes shift to Robin. "He's been surly as ever and I just don't have the stomach for it."

"Surly–"

"Why–"

"Oh," she breathes out, shaking her head. "I didn't tell you." Regina feels her stomach sink and her heart skips a beat as she swallows and tries not to overreact, and as she tries to stifle that little voice in her head that tells her plenty of people get surly and it's likely nothing to worry about. "Rose is engaged."

"Engaged."

"Stefan's Rose?"

"Mm," she nods. "Apparently, he was blindsided."

"How is that possible?" Regina asks. "I thought they were–"

"They were always on again and off again," Mal admits, shrugging. "I guess she finally got tired of it, and him. Quite honestly, I can't say that I blame her." Mal falls silent and her jaw tenses. "Good for her, but… sucks for me," she tells them, her voice barely audible.

"Well, does it… does it really change anything?" Robin asks. "I mean–"

"I don't know," she replies. "He was glad to delay our marriage when he had Rose."

"And that'll change?" Regina asks. "I mean, it's no secret that neither of you want this marriage."

"No, but… now he'll be focused on it," she explains. "He wants the money that's tied to me and–"

"Marrying you is the only way to get it."

They reach the stairwell and Robin opens the door for both of them, and one-by-one they file down the narrow staircase–and again, Regina's heart feels heavy, though she can't quite place why.

"I've seen him angry," Mal tells them as they make their way down the stairs. "But nothing like the way he was the other night." She sighs and though Regina can't see her face, she knows that she's just rolled her eyes. "I'm sure the bottle of gin he guzzled down didn't do anything to improve his state."

"So, you came to us–"

"Flu and all."

She nods, pulling the door open and smiling softly as both she and Robin pass through it. "I'm just glad you don't mind."

"Mal," Robin laughs. "You could have the bubonic plague and we'd still want you around."

At that, Mal laughs and so does Regina–but though she laughs, she can't help but feel an uneasiness that she can't quite explain.

She'd been staying with them for the last several days, and when she arrived, she was visibly upset. She told them, then, that it was because she was sick and felt badly about ruining their plans, and was just overly emotional because of it. In the moment, Regina had accepted that explanation–Mal was clearly not feeling well and obviously upset–and she'd left it at that. But after they got back from their walk and changing into pajamas that same evening, she'd noticed that as Mal washed off her makeup there was a slight bruise along her cheekbone. Again, she had no reason to doubt her, and readily accepted Mal's explanation of how she'd been overcome by a wave of nausea and lungued for the toilet, not wanting to have to clean it up off of the floor, and as she dove forward, her face hit the edge of the counter as she went down.

Still, she had no reason to think that Mal was lying, but she couldn't shake the feeling that maybe she was.

And then, as they stepped out onto the main floor of the library, she pushed away her doubts and reminded herself that she was being ridiculous, and if something were truly wrong, Mal would tell them.

Robin went into his office early–hours before anyone else would be in–and he set the typed out and sealed letter of resignation on his secretary's desk. His explanation was vague, but enough. As he left the office building he handed his keys to the doorman, and as soon as he did, a weight that he hadn't even realized had been settled on his shoulders lifted.

He was done–and his part in this nightmare was over and done with.

He was free.

When the job opportunity had come up, he'd only known that he wanted a change–he just didn't know what sort of change he was looking for, and that's why it'd been so hard to explain to Regina.

As stubborn as she was, he was the same way–and he barely realized that the reason he'd been so secretive and coy about joining the District Attorney's office was because he knew that it'd be a poor fit. Deep down, he knew that if he sat down and talked it out with Regina, he'd realize it and he wasn't at all ready to admit that–not to Regina and not to himself.

He laughed to himself as he made it down the street, thinking of the terrible day that Gold was about to have. In addition to his resignation letter, he knew that at some point Judge Hopper or someone else from the State Bar Association would be calling him. There was a part of him that wished he could be there to witness it–but that part of him was very small.

A larger part of him couldn't wait to get home.

By the time he arrived, Mal and Regina had the car packed up.

Regina was going through the boys' room, packing a bag of some of their favorite toys and games, a few outfits and a few pairs of pajamas to tide them over. Camp would be ending in a little less than two weeks, and after that, there would be another four weeks of summer.

They planned to spend it up at Mal's cottage, and he was certain that the boys would be thrilled beyond belief to be there. It'd be like an extension of camp–taking hikes in the morning and swimming in the lake during the afternoon, doing arts and crafts projects on rainy days and exploring the small little towns on the outskirts of the woods.

And that would give him and Regina time to sort out what to do next.

Privately, they'd talked about what life could be like with Mal and the adjustments they'd have to make to create a spot for her. Neither of them wanted to just fit her in–to squeeze her into the life they'd built together–and they knew that if they did that, she'd never really feel like she belonged. They worried she'd feel like a perpetual visitor, like nothing was truly hers–and she'd spent far too many years feeling that way already.

She'd been incredibly upfront about her concerns–she didn't want to be a third wheel or disrupt their sons' lives and she didn't want to make a spectacle of their family. Eventually, the neighbors would be curious–they already were, every now and then gawking through their windows and awkwardly shuffling over when either he or Regina got the mail to ask about their house guest–and, inevitably, they would figure things out. They'd see things and hear things, and no matter how careful they were, hiding their relationship would be hard–and though they assured her they were prepared for the consequences should that happen, she worried about the backlash.

The night before, after Mal fell asleep, he and Regina had stayed up, talking it out.

Of course, Mal had a valid point and her concerns weren't without merit–the boys were young and impressionable–and they couldn't expect them to keep their secrets, if it would be a secret at all–and while they could handle whatever backlash that was thrown at them, they couldn't expect that from Henry and Roland. It wouldn't be fair and no matter what they said, they would be hurt.

Then, Regina suggested that perhaps, they could start over.

Instead of fitting Mal into the life they'd created when it was just the two of them, they could start over somewhere–they could start a new life where it'd always been just the three of them, where Mal wasn't the new and mysterious woman in the neighborhood, where no one knew the details their lives before she came back to them.

She bit down on her lip and admitted that she'd taken a newspaper from Archie's living room. He'd teased her about how proud he was of her petty theft and she'd rolled her eyes, explaining that she'd taken it because she noticed an estate sale two blocks away from the universities campus–and his brow arches when she readily produces the advertisement showing a house he's seen a thousand times before.

He looks down at the grainy black-and-white photograph, and he can see the stately house's red brick exterior, white wrap-around porch and the porch swing that always seemed to creek softly even in the most subtle wind.

"I think it's a sign," she'd told him.

His brow arched. "You sound like Mal."

She laughed a little and shrugged–and then, shaking his head, he flipped the paper over and saw another advertisement–Rachel Carson was coming to the university to speak about her new work on coastal ecosystems. "So, if you think the house isn't a sign, that surely is," Regina said. "You've read absolutely everything she's ever written."

His chest tightened and he nodded–and then, they didn't say anymore about it. Both understood that they could talk in circles between themselves until they were blue in the face, but none of it would matter unless Mal decided to stay, and no matter how much they wanted her to and told her so, the decision was hers and hers alone.

They respected that–but at the same time, it wasn't in their nature not to try to persuade her, and that would be far easier to do if she wasn't in a place where she felt she didn't belong, where she felt like an imposition, where she felt like there were eyes always watching.

They'd driven upstate in record time, stopping off for lunch at Granny's and visiting with her for awhile. Once again, Granny was glad to see them and relief washed over her as Mal informed her of the good news–she was a free woman and for the first time in longer than she could remember, her life was her's again. Granny hugged her for a long time, getting teary eyed as she told her how happy she was–as she pulled back, she made her promise not to disappear again, and with flushed cheeks, her eyes shifted to him and Regina, and with only a little bit of reluctance, Mal agreed. As they were leaving, Granny managed to remind Mal that the second apartment above her diner was once again vacant, not so subtly reminding her that she'd once thought it'd make a good studio. Mal hesitated and as they said their goodbyes, Granny promising not to rent it out until she made her decision, one way or the other.

It was dark by the time they arrived at the cottage, and by the time they'd hauled in their bags from the car, they'd been too exhausted to do much of anything. So, they'd fallen into bed and before his head even hit the pillow, he was asleep.

Now, they were sitting on the beach, their feet nestled in the sand as they watched the tide wash up onto the beach and then retreat. It was warm and sunny already–and as he stared out at the water, he couldn't help but think that this was going to be wonderful–after all, how could it not be?

Regina is cuddled up against him, her head on his shoulder and Mal is stretched out at his side with her head resting against his thigh–and there's nothing about the scene in front him that's not completely relaxing and serene.

"I think we should sell the house," Regina says, somewhat abruptly.

Mal sits up, her brow furrowed. "What? Why?"

"I just think a change would be good."

"Regina–"

"I agree," Robin says. "And I think you should rent the apartment."

Mal's eyes widen and Reigna laughs. "Do you remember that house on Mifflin? The brick one with the white shutters and the wrap around porch–"

"With the swing," Mal says, nodding. "It's up for sale?"

"What?"

"There was an estate sale last week, and when we were driving to Granny's yesterday, I noticed the sign in the yard." A grin pulls onto Regina's lips. "There's a sign in the yard."

"But that house has been in that family for generations," Mal says. "It just kept getting passed down."

"Well, it's for sale now," Reigna says, her voice very matter of fact. "And I think we should buy it."

"But–"

"Mal," Robin cuts in gently. "I don't know about you, but these past couple of months have been… I keep getting swept up in nostalgia, and I keep remembering things I hadn't thought of in years and years, because quite frankly, they were just too painful to think about."

"Oh, I–"

"We're not trying to make you feel guilty," Regina says. "I just… ever since we visited last week, I can't stop thinking about how much I loved living in that little town." She girns. "The parks we used to go to and the library with those beautiful murals, having meals at Granny's and even those stupid hikes you and Robin used to go on." She laughs a little. "And I'd nearly forgotten about the walks you and I would take through those stately old neighborhoods–"

Robin nods as Regina's voice trails off, remembering how Regina used to marvel over those houses and Mal would go on and on about the architecture and unique little details of each.

"I'm not saying you need to make a decision right now, but… I think we should go and look at the house."

"I agree," Robin says. "We won't tell you what to do, but I don't think you've fully considered what staying would mean."

"I have. I just–"

"We could start over in a place where it was always just the three of us. Neighbors would be used to seeing us together and we'd be surrounded by people who know us and love us and–"

"People we don't have to hide from," Reigna cuts in. "And before you bring up the kids, they'd have a better support system here–new friends, Granny and–"

"People would still ask questions."

"But they wouldn't know what our lives were like before you came back."

"And enough people would remember from before," Robin says, taking Mal's hand and giving it a squeeze.

"Yeah," Regina says, her eye shifting to Mal. "People in this town loved you."

Biting down on her lip, Mal nods. "I did know a lot of people."

"You were always talking to people, taking such interest in their stories and who they were. They cared about you. I could tell."

"And if anyone found out about our relationship," Robin says, "People who know us and care about us–you especially–would be much kinder in their judgement."

"Just… consider that," Regina says, reaching across him and grabbing onto Mal's hand, her fingers brushing against his. "And come look at the house. Picture yourself there, see how it feels–"

"You sound like me all of the sudden."

Robin feels a grin tug onto his lips and a soft chuckle escapes him. "I told her that yesterday."

"You're rubbing off on me," Regina says, shrugging. "And that's a good thing," she insists as he nods along. "You balance us out."

At that, Robin laughs a little. "If you stay, you'd actually be doing our boys a favor."

"Would I?" she asks, her brow arching up with skepticism. "And how exactly do you figure that?"

"Well, it's just like Regina said–you balance us. You being here with us tamps down the crazy, and they can only benefit from that."

Mal laughs and shakes her head. "You two are crazy."

"That's exactly my point."

She laughs again. "And you'd just… sell your house and pack up your lives, quit your jobs and–"

"You forget," he cuts in. "I've already done that last one."

"And yes, I'd sell that house. Have you met our neighbor, Leroy? All four and a half feet of him make me want to murder him."

Mal's eyes narrow. "Is he the one who looks over the fence when–"

"Yes."

"And the one who somehow always ends up with our mail," Robin sighs.

"What about Henry and Roland? Surely, they like their school and have friends and–"

"Roland would love being the new kid at school. He'd get to make new friends and everyone would want to talk to him. He's a social butterfly."

"And as soon as Henry sees that library, he'll go nuts."

"He likes books?" Mal asks, grinning gently. "He's a reader?"

Robin nods, feeling a bit of pride bubbling in his chest. "He wants to be a writer."

"A newspaper man, he says," Regina adds.

A smile pulls onto Mal's lips and she draws in a breath, her eyes pressing closed. "I feel like it'd be selfish if–"

"Please, be selfish," Regina insists, squeezing her hand. "You've earned that right."

"Or," he cuts in as Regina's voice trails off. "Be incredibly compliant, if you're considering this because you think it's what we want."

Mal laughs as she opens her eyes. "It's really on Mifflin?"

"It is."

"That street was always my favorite."

"I know."

"That's where I found that gorgeous copy of the Book of Hoyle. You rem–"

"Of course we do," Robin says. "We had such fun thanks to that book."

"And you were so adorable, going on about the hand-drawn illustrations."

"Those illustrations were cute," Mal tells them, nodding a little as she draws in a breath. "Okay."

Robin's chest tightens and he holds his breath–he's not entirely sure what she's just agreed to, but she's agreed to something and that is progress.

"I'll go and look at the house."

Before he can react, a little squeal escapes Regina as she nearly lunges across him to pull Mal into a hug. He laughs and rubs Regina's back, his eyes pressing closed momentarily as he hopes this means she'll stay–wanting it so much that his body aches.

"And what will we do about jobs?" she asks. "You're–"

"We'll figure it out."

"We have time to do that," Regina tells her. "We'll sell the house and the firm, or maybe just rent out the office space." She shrugs. "We just sort of… fell into that life. We never took the time to consider what we actually wanted. We have a chance to do that now, and … I want to do it. I want to make sure this time we get it right."

"I know the feeling."

And then, as Regina pulls back, they fall into an easy conversation of what their lives could be like. They talk about how they'd decorate the house with Mal's art and how the boys could each have their own rooms. There's a library inside and they'd fill it with books–eclectic ones of Mal's choosing, law books and biographies that Regina was drawn to and books about the environment and natural world for him. It'd take them years to fill it, and it'd be a sort of project for them–searching for all of their favorites, wandering in and out of old book shops and rummage sales, striving to add to a collection that would never really be complete. They talk about family breakfasts–making cinnamon french toast with apple topping–and having cookouts in the backyard. They could install a swing set in the backyard and build a treehouse in one of the great oak trees in the back corner of the yard, and they talk about cuddling up in front of the fireplace on cold winter nights as soft jazz music plays–and he can't help but notice that somewhere in the middle of the conversation, Mal stops saying if and starts saying when.

At first he isn't sure that she's aware of the shift–but Regina picks up on it, too–and when they reach the house and Mal pushes open the door, then hesitates before going in.

"I want this."

"What?"

"I want to stay–I want to stay with the two of you." She laughs a little as tears fill her eyes. "I don't know how you've managed it, but… you've convinced me."

Robin feels his chest tighten as Regina's hand comes up to cover her mouth–and seemingly for the first time in her life, she's speechless.

Mal bites down on her bottom lip as she looks between them. "I'm still not convinced that it'll work," she says. "But… I want to try it. I… I need to try it. Otherwise–"

He doesn't let her finish.

Reaching for her, he lifts her into his arms, spinning her around until she's laughing–and as he sets her down, Regina pushes forward, her hands sweeping up over Mal's cheeks as she draws her in for a kiss.

Robin feels his chest tighten as tears fill his eyes as he watches them trade sweet kisses–and for the first time since Mal left, despite all of the uncertainty that lies ahead of them all, he feels more secure than ever in what the future will bring them.

It was unlike Mal to be late–and though their plans to go to a church carnival had never really been solidified, Mal seemed excited about the prospect, and even if plans changed and they didn't go to the carnival, she'd still come over.

Her parents had returned from Newport the day before and her mother wanted to take her shopping. She worried that it was to pick out a wedding dress and to look at flowers, and when they suggested she blow it off and stay, she told them she wished that she could–then a little smile pulled onto her lips as she told them she'd be back on Sunday morning.

She'd conjured up a story about volunteering for some women's group that her parents wouldn't question and she teased them about how they'd manage a full two days without her, and again, she promised she'd be back on Sunday morning.

Or maybe it was afternoon, Regina thinks to herself as she looks at the clock, noting that it's half past three.

"Is it weird that I'm worried?"

Robin looks up as Regina pulls herself up onto the counter. "No," he sighs. "I'm worried too." He slides a glass of iced tea toward her then pours a second for himself, pecking her lips as he puts the pitcher back into the refrigerator. "I'd be far less concerned if she hadn't been so sick lately."

"I know," she sighs, her stomach flopping. "She really should see a doctor about… whatever is going on."

"She said she was feeling better."

"I know, but… sometimes I just… I feel like she…"

"Sugar coats things to make us feel better."

Regina nods. "Yeah."

"Well, when she gets here," Robin says, drawing in a shaky little breath. "We'll interrogate her."

"When she gets here," she repeats. "When she gets here…"

"I am going to go downstairs and see if the mail's come yet."

"Check with Granny and see if she called?"

"I will, but I'm sure Granny would have–"

"Maybe she got busy. Maybe it wasn't important and–"

"I'll check," he assures her, leaning in and pecking her lips again. "I'll be back."

"Okay," she breathes out turning and watching as he leaves the apartment, grabbing the key to their mailbox just before the door closes behind him. "Okay," she murmurs to herself. "You're overreacting."

Regina reaches for the tea, and takes a long, slow sip as she tries to calm herself down. She's worrying for nothing–she has to be–and she wishes that for just a little while, she could turn off the little voice in her head that says that something is terribly wrong. Her stomach aches and her limbs feel heavy, and she thinks of what Mal would tell her if she saw her this way–how she'd laugh and tell her she needed to learn to relax.

Setting down the tea, she hops off the counter and reminds herself that this is likely all for nothing, that Mal will be here soon and she'll be absolutely fine.

She pictures her coming into the apartment in a huff–complaining about how she'd been delayed by her parents showing her borng slides from their millionth trip to Newport or how she'd been stuck in a traffic jam she couldn't get out of. She'd have a logical explanation that didn't involve something terrible happening to her, and then she'd move on and forget all about the sinking feeling in her stomach.

She's lost in thought when the apartment door opens and Robin calls out to her telling her that Mal did not call, but he got the mail and the electric bill looked like it'd been chewed up by–

He stops, not finishing that sentence, just as she comes into the living room from the kitchen–and suddenly, he looks ashen.

"What?"

"We got a letter."

"From who?"

"Mal," he says, looking up at her with confused eyes. "She… sent us a letter."

Regina sets the tea down and joins him on the couch, watching as he shoves his finger underneath the envelope, ripping it open and hasilty unfolding the letter. She smiles a bit wistfully and a bit nervously, her heart beating faster and faster as she takes in the lavender colored paper and her pretty handwriting in purple ink–and it seems like it takes forever for Robin to unfold it…

I've never been very good at goodbyes, and I fear that if I actually did this face-to-face, I'd never be able to do it, and I must. We all knew going into this that it was temporary, that what would had could never last. The years we spent together have meant the world to me and I'll always be grateful to the two of you for opening your relationship to me and opening your hearts. I have so many happy memories that I will always hold near and dear. I know this feels a little bit abrupt, but you both knew that our time together was winding down, and I hope you'll both look back on our time together with fondness and without regret.

By the time you get this, it'll be too late to change my mind. Tonight, Stefan and I are going to elope and an hour after we sign our marriage certificate, we'll set sail to embark on a new life. Admittedly, I am not sure that this is going to make me happy, but this is the path that my life is supposed to take; and as much as it hurts to leave, I think that this is for the best.

I know that the two of you will be okay. You'll go on to marry and have children, you'll have brillant careers and change the world. You'll be happy–I know you will, and somewhere out there, I'll be loving you.

I'm sorry it had to end this way.

All my love–

Mal

Tears well in her eyes as she looks to Robin–and she's at all loss. All she can do is shake her head and tell him she doesn't understand–because truly, she doesn't.

She didn't believe that their relationship had to end and she didn't believe that Mal leaving was for the best. In all the time they'd been together, she never even considered that there would be an end. She knew that Mal would eventually marry Stefan, but she didn't see why anything between them had to change. She didn't see why Mal and Stefan wouldn't go on leading separate lives as they had been for the last three years.

The ache in her chest is imaginable and she can't push out her voice–and as Robin's face crumples she feels her own tears spill down her cheek. She starts for lean forward, desperately wanting comfort that she knows won't come–and as she leans forward, Robin's arms wrap around her pulling into a tight embrace, holding her and searching for the same unattainable comfort.

This isn't happening, she tells herself.

It couldn't be–yet that annoying little voice that told her earlier that she should be worried was getting louder and louder, and it was telling her that this is happening, that it is real, and worst of all, that there isn't anything she can do to change it.

The original plan was that John and Marian would pick the boys up from camp and bring them home–and then, the six of them would have a cookout on the patio, spending an evening together, laughing and catching up. So, a few days before camp was meant to end, Robin called John and explained that there had been a slight change of plans, that he and Regina were spending some time at a cottage about an hour north of the camp, and he told them that there wasn't any reason he and Regina couldn't pick up the boys themselves–and then, to everyone's surprise, John said he and Marian still wanted to pick them up. They'd been looking forward to it and it'd been too long since they all spent time together–they missed them, and they were family.

Robin agreed, and she and Regina stood there, holding their breath as Robin explained that there was just one more thing that he and Marian should know before coming up to the cottage with the boys. To her relief, Robin didn't say much about her reemergence in their lives–just that the cottage was hers and she would be there with them. There'd been a long pause, then Robin asked if he was sure, and after another pause his brows arched and he gave them a thumbs up as told John he was looking forward to seeing him.

Then, for three days, she pretended that John wasn't coming and she ignored the memory that kept bubbling up of his horrified expression as he caught her with Robin and Regina all those years before.

Now, though, she couldn't ignore it–and she tried not to let on that it was bothering her. Of course, hiding her feelings wasn't very effective. Robin and Regina saw through her excuses and assured her that everything would be alright–and though she wanted to believe them, she just couldn't shake the memory of his face that night or how disgusted he'd been.

"I promise," Robin whispers as John's car pulls up the long drive. "This is going to be fine."

"And if it's not? If he's not… okay with me?"

"Then he doesn't stay," Robin says simply, leaning in and pecking her cheek as Regina's arm wraps around her waist. "It's as simple as that."

"It'll be fine," Regina murmurs. "I promise."

She nods in response, though she doesn't quite believe it–and as the car door slams, both Robin and Regina move to the door, opening it and holding their arms out to their sons as they run to them. Robin lifts both boys into his arms and Regina presses kisses to their hair as they tell them over and over how much they missed them and Regina teases that they aren't allowed to leave again until they leave for college.

John carries in their trunks and a woman follows behind him, holding two pillows underneath her arm and Michy's shoebox in both hands, and as Robin sets Henry and Roland down, she watches as their eyes widen as they look around–and another old memory flicker as she remembers the first time she brought Robin and Regina to this cottage and she recalls their faces when they first saw it.

"Whoa…"

"This place is amazing."

"Yeah," Roland says, agreeing with his brother as he bobs his head back and forth. "It's so big."

"And it's got tons of rooms."

They both look to her, for the first time noticing that she's there–and Roland's grin is immediate.

"Hi, Mal," Henry says, shifting a bit awkwardly.

"Is this your house?"

"Um, my family's, but I'm really the only one who uses it these days." She bites down on her lip and draws in a breath. "It's nice to see you again–both of you."

"It's nice to be here," Roland says as Henry nudges his arm. "And it's nice to see you, too."

"Yeah," Henry nods. "It is."

"Boys," Regina says, kneeling down between them. "Why don't you go pick our a roo–"

"We get to stay here?" Roland asks, his jaw dropping as he looks to Reigna.

"We do," she says. "For about two more weeks."

"Cool!"

"So, why don't you grab your frog and pick out a room for–"

Mal laughs softly as Roland runs toward the hall, not waiting for his mother to finish–and Henry sighs, walking over to Marian and thanking her for holding onto Michy, before tucking the shoe box under his arm and taking off after Roland.

"Well, I was going to tell them to take their bags, but–"

Regina's eyes follow Mal's gaze to John–and she feels her stomach tighten as Regina steps up behind her and slides an arm around her waist.

"Thank you," Robin says. "For picking them up and bringing them to us."

"Yeah," John says, his voice curt as his eyes rest on her. "I was glad to. I love spending time with them."

Letting out a shaky breath, she watches as John's eyes fall to Regina's hand on her hip–and when she tries to move away, Robin shakes his head, but before he can say anything, Marian steps forward.

"This photograph is absolutely gorgeous," she says. "Did you buy it–"

"No," Robin cuts in. "Mal took that picture."

Marian's brows arch upward. "You're a photographer?"

"Not exactly. It's just a hob–"

"Ignore her. She's being modest. She's brilliant," Regina says. "When we went to visit the boys at camp a few weeks back, she took some shots that I just can't get over. She captured them perfectly."

"Really?" Marian asks, seeming genuinely interested. "Do you… do you have more? Because i'd love to see them!"

Mal nods, smiling a bit awkwardly as she leads Marian into the house. "It's not much," she says. "I um… I lost most of my work," she admits, not wanting to explain any more than that. "But I'm trying to build up my collection again."

Reaching for two photo albums on the shelf, she pulls them off and then Marian follows her to the couch–and from the corner of her eye, she watches Robin leading John toward the kitchen as Regina follows close behind them.

"The first is, um… some older shots. Birds and trees, nothing special." She clears her throat, looking back at Robin, Regina, and John as they watch the exchange. "And then the second is more current photographs."

Marian begins flipping through the first album, reacting to every few pictures and asking questions about them–and she's glad for a bit of a distraction and that her attention is split between Marian and the photos and the not-so-hushed conversation that's taking place in the kitchen.

Marian tells her that when she was in high school, her favorite classes were always art or art history, and Mal listens as she talks about some of her favorites, trying her best to focus on what Marian has to say and not the loud thumping of her heart that's pounding in her ears.

"Look," she hears Robin says. "I know you don't get it. I know how you feel about this relationship, but if you can't accept it, you don't have to stay here."

Mal fidgets as Marian's eyes cast up, looking toward the kitchen, drawing in a breath as her eyes shift back. "I'm sorry," she says. "I… I told him not to react this way and he promised he wouldn't."

"It's o–"

"It's not," Marian sighs. "And he hates when people make comments about us or even when they stare for a bit too long as if a biracial couple is–." She pauses somewhat abruptly, and Mal bristles a bit as the voices from the kitchen fall–and though they can still hear them talking, they can't quite make out their words. "Last night he seemed to understand that this isn't all that different… and then we got here."

"Well," Marian says, straightening her shoulders. "If he storms off and we end up leaving, he'll be getting an earful from me the whole way back home." Mal grins at Marian's support. "Robin is like a brother to him and those boys mean the world to him. Besides that, Robin's never once made me feel uncomfortable. I don't see why it's so hard to return the favor."

Mal just nods and Marian takes a breath, again looking down at the album. "That's one of my favorite pictures," Mal tells her, fidgeting with her fingers and praying to a god she's not even sure exists that John doesn't storm off, if only for the sake of Robin and the boys–and, if she's being perfectly honest, she's also hoping that if he does, Robin and his sons don't once day come to resent her for that.

Sensing her discomfort, Marian's focus returns to the photo album and asks where a scenic photo was taken–and as she does, they hear John repeats that he truly can't wrap his head around what they're doing or why and then after a long pause tells them that he thought they were over this phase–and then Regina scoffs and says that it was never a phase, loudly declaring that they love her.

Marian offers a little grin–still trying to ignore what's happening just a few dozen feet away–as Mal tells about a park just around the block from Granny's diner and how she used to like to walk there and sit on a bench, watching children play on the playground just beyond it or watch ducks paddle in circles in the little pond. Marian laughs softly as she turns the page to find a picture of one of the ducks–and her laugh is almost enough to make her miss John saying a pointed what happened to all that crap you used to spew about being soulmates and Marian sucks in a breath, shifting awkwardly as Robin challenges him, and tells him that perhaps part of him and Regina being soulmates is that they were both supposed to love Mal, too.

In spite of the tension, she feels a grin tug up onto her lips as Regina explains how she felt with they first met her, how they both fell head over heels, and loving Mal only brought them closer, that it only strengthened the love they felt for each other—and in spite of the ever-tightening knot in her stomach, she feels her heart flutter and she can't help but think of how glad she is for their love.

She'd never really considered that they were supposed to love her. So often, she'd find herself thinking about how perfect they were together–how well-suited they were–and the idea of them being soulmates seemed all too obvious. Yet, she'd never really understood how she fit into that connection. In her mind, she was always the extra one, the one who mattered just a little bit less, and she hadn't considered she was was actually a part of the connection she envied and found so endearing.

Marian smiles too, as she feels her own cheeks flush as she lets her gaze meet Marian's for just a moment. "That one," she begins as Marian turns the page. "Is another one of my favorites, but for a very different reason."

"Is that… pie?"

"Key lime, from this little diner–"

"Granny's," Marian supplies. "I've been there a few times–holidays, and that sort of thing, but never when there's the regular menu. Robin and Regina talk about how good the good is all of the time, though, and whenever they go, they get the key lime pie." She laughs a bit awkwardly as she continues. "It's funny because everywhere else Regina would order apple but at that diner, it was always key lime. I guess I know why now."

There's something sweet about that–and as she considers it, she hears Robin issue an ultimatum that nearly stops her heart. Marian looks up, too, and listens as Robin explains that John's choice is simple…he can respect Mal's place in their life and he, too, can stay a part of it, or he can choose not to do that and no longer be a part of it.

The pause is long and both Mal and Marian hold their breath–and then finally, John concedes, apologizing. Marian releases her breath and offers a tight but sincere smile, and she finds herself offering the same in return as she feels a little rush of emotion that she can't quite describe, for reasons that aren't quite clear to her.

She doesn't hear the rest of the conversation, and Marian goes back to looking at the pictures, and by the time Marian makes it to the second album, Robin, Regina and John are walking back into the living room. They all look tense, but are smiling and Robin makes a joke that they've worked things out after a spirited conversation.

Mal's stomach flips as John steps toward her, shuffling awkwardly as his eyes meet hers. "I, uh… I think we got off on the wrong foot, and I know that's mostly my fault, but–"

"What happened was a long time ago," Mal cuts in, her heart pounding as she tries to smile. "I think we can consider it… water under the bridge."

"That's… kind of you to say," John says, clearing his throat. "So, uh… we can… try again? You know, start over?"

"I'd like that."

Looking up, she watches as Robin smiles–proudly as their eyes meet–and Regina sits down on the arm of her chair, leaning in and pressing a kiss to the top of her hair.

It's a bit uncomfortable to be like this with Regina–and with Robin–in front of people, but she doesn't pull away because as uncomfortable as it feels in that moment, she doesn't want to hide anymore, and she suspects, that like it is with anything else, the more John sees of them all together, the easier it'll become and less unusual it'll seem to him.

"Okay," Regina says, looking around the room. "We planned a cookout. There's a little lake house just down the path–"

"We've got hot dogs and burgers, steaks and ribs, and all sorts of snacks," Robin adds.

"And I promise, I'm not doing any of the cooking."

"Mal is actually quite skilled in the kitchen."

"I can follow a recipe, that's–"

"A skill not all of us have," Regina cuts in, squeezing her gently as they all laugh and it sort of breaks the tension that looms.

It's John who agrees that a cookout sounds nice and Mal's chest tightens when he offers to help her grill–and Marian cuts in to add that he's recently gotten into grilling and has picked up a few tasty tips, that he's even taken to making his own barbecue sauce.

"Is the recipe a secret?" Mal asks, her heart beating a bit faster–and then, to her relief, he shakes his head.

"If you have the right spices, I can show you."

Grinning she nods–and again, Regina squeezes her and presses a kiss to the top of her head as Robin beams from his place a few feet away. "I have a fully stocked spice cabinet."

"Then we're all set."

Robin collects the boys and they all head down to the little lake house. The boys change into their swimsuits and Marian and Regina put on shorts and tank tops, wading in the water with the boys as she, Robin, and John prepare the food.

To her surprise, the rest of the afternoon goes smoothly. John teaches her how to make the barbecue sauce as they slather it on the ribs, and, in return, she teaches him to make an herbed butter to serve on the steaks. He seems to be making an effort, though she can see that it's a struggle, while she makes one too, and he doesn't flinch when Robin pushes a quick kiss to her cheek as they pass one another.

By early evening the boys are both sleeping in the hammock and they're all settled on the patio furniture with glasses of wine in front of them and a bowl of chips and onion dip at the center of the table. Marian and John settle on the chairs, and she, Regina and Robin are all on the couch. Robin's arm is stretched loosely over her shoulders and Regina's leaning against his other arm with her feet propped up on an ottoman as she and Marian talk about art. She finds their both fans of impressionist painters, and Robin, Regina, and John have another conversation that she doesn't keep track of.

At one point, John catches something that Marian says, and cuts into the conversation, adding an anecdotal story that makes her laugh. It's at that point when she realizes how comfortable she is sitting with Robin and Regina in a loose embrace, talking with their friends and not at all worried about saying the wrong thing. It's surprisingly natural and easy–and somewhere in the midst of the conversation, she finds herself finally coming to the realization that this is really going to work, and that realization fills her heart with a feeling she's not sure she's ever quite felt.

Finally, she has a place where she belongs.


	5. There Has to be Another Way

Written for Prompt Part 2019 - a flashback of Mal meeting with her family's lawyer prior to reaching out to Regina.

Tears sting in her eyes as she stares at her father's lawyer—a man she only vaguely knows and doesn't trust.

She wonders if he remembers her—remembers when they were kids and his father had the job he now holds. She hasn't seen him in more than twenty years, but she wonders if he remembers the red popsicles they ate together one fourth-of-july or drawing with chalk all over the stone approach to the Von Drachen estate. She wonders if he remembers how much trouble they'd gotten into or how they hid in one of the great oak trees in front of the house, hoping her father didn't find out.

They were just kids then—no more than nine years old—and those memories, even for her, are hazy.

She remembers that he'd gone off to prep school where he fell in with a group of boys who played polo and thought they were better than everyone. She remembers how he drank in high school and didn't take his courses seriously, and the only reason he got into a prestigious ivy league school was because of a hefty donation from his father and a recommendation from hers.

He'd lauded his acceptance over her the last time they saw each other, and what he didn't know is that she'd applied to that same school and gotten in—but, of course, she couldn't go.

That wasn't what girls like her were meant to do, and her mother saw to it that she wouldn't break the mold.

She vaguely remembers their fathers scoffing over his grades, but nonetheless, paying for his fraternity membership—and she remembers her father lamenting he wished he'd had a boy. The details of that conversation were fuzzy, but she remembers his father telling hers that at least he had the Perrault boys. Her father smiled faintly and nodded, and after a long pause, he agreed—he was glad for the Perrault boys.

Her eyes narrow.

She can't remember him ever being friendly with Stefan or Leopold, but that doesn't mean they weren't. They certainly ran in similar circles—though, Stefan and Leopold wouldn't have fraternized with their family's lawyer's son, they considered themselves better than that. But nonetheless, that uncertainty makes her uneasy. After all, her fate rests in his hands.

He stares back at her, almost blankly, as he explains that her father was distressed to hear her 'news.' He explains that he'd been having an otherwise good day—a rarity for a man who suffered from alzheimer's—and by stating such, he seems to be implying that she'd ruined it for him.

Well, that was a fair implication, she decides, given the circumstances.

"He told me that I'm to make this go away," the lawyer says.

Mal barely nods. "I don't see how that's possible."

"It's not. You didn't forget to pay some parking tickets. You murdered someone."

Again, she musters a hint of a nod. "I understand."

Her jaw trembles, but she won't cry—she can't, not in front of this stranger.

"By some miracle, I've managed to get you out on bail," he tells her. "But you're not to leave the hotel."

"We both know it wasn't a miracle," Mal says, trying to keep the emotion from her voice. "You bought—"

"Careful, now," he warns. "You're in enough trouble." Her shoulders square and he takes a breath. "Your father also wanted me to go over the terms of his will." She watches as he reaches into a briefcase at his feet. "As you know—"

"I'm well aware of what that says," she mutters, fully aware that that single document is what's kept her alive.

"Yes, but it's a bit more complicated now that...well, now that you're no longer married." She scoffs at that and the lawyer maintains a straight face. "As it stands—"

"As is stands," she says, cutting in, her voice elevated and sharp. "Leopold Blanchard is set to inherit my father's entire fortune, provided I'm found guilty. Which, I am."

The terms set by the family's lawyer years ago were quite simple.

She would marry the oldest son of her father's business partner. Upon her father-in-law's death, the business assets went to her father, while any personal wealth was divided between his sons. Upon her father's death, her husband—and, so, she, by extension—would inherit everything. Of course, if Stefan died, things were murky. As Stefan's wife and her father's daughter, she was entitled to inherit; but the fortune would once again be split—some to her and some to Leo. She assumed it was a fifty-fifty split. She hadn't ever bothered to look into what the split was. She didn't care about the money or the properties or the business; and truly, she didn't expect to live long enough for it to matter.

For a moment, they just stare at each other and then, the lawyer slumps back in his chair. "I can't believe you fucking shot him," he says.

Her jaw tightens and she holds back her tears. They've been together for an hour now, talking in her hotel room, and still, he's yet to ask for her side of the story. He hasn't asked why she did it or if something led to it. He hasn't asked if they'd gotten into a fight, much less asked if Stefan had a temper or if this had been the culmination of years of abuse. He seems decided in what happened, and worse, he seems disinterested in the circumstances; his only concern is a problem he has to clean up—or, as her father put it, it's up to him to make the problem go away.

It hasn't occurred to him that maybe the problem has gone away.

Beneath the table, she fidgets nervously with her fingers as it occurs to her that there might be another way.


	6. Just Look the Other Way

It'd been a hectic and understaffed day at the dinner—from breakfast straight through the late-night rush—and she's absolutely exhausted. Her feet throb and her hands ache, and she can't decide if she wants to take a hot shower or just crawl into bed and sleep—after all, the restaurant will open up again in less than six hours.

Despite owning a diner in a college town for over twenty years, she always manages to forget what exam weeks are like. Her waitresses always call in to buy themselves a bit more study time and students from the university camp out in the booths with textbooks, study cards and the endless flow of coffee she supplies to them. No one cooks for themselves—it takes far too long—and even the row of picnic tables out front are constantly being used, and therefore, in constant need of attention.

And her usual backup helpers and tenants are knee deep in their own exams.

She doesn't like to bother them—even when they don't have exams—but she barely charges them what the apartment's worth and their help at the restaurant is part of the deal. Usually on busy days, they'll insist upon it—at least to do dishes or wipe down the tables—but today, she hadn't even seen them. They never ventured down, and she was far too busy to knock on their door.

It didn't matter now, though, she thought, as she flipped off the neon window sign and wandered into the kitchen, making a mental list of everything that had to be done before morning.

She spent some time prepping French toast for the morning menu, and condensed the mustard and ketchup containers, then started working on the dairy order. She filled out her usual Sunday slip and put the empty milk bottles into their crates, drawing in a sharp breath as she lifted them by their straps. One by one, she carried them out onto the back porch, lining them up and tucking her order slip into the front of the crate.

For a moment, she just stood there, taking deep breaths and enjoying the crisp air. It was cool, but not cold, and a nice change from the warmth of the kitchen—and truly, it was just nice to not do something, even if it was just for a couple of minutes.

Reaching into her pocket, she pulls out a package of cigarettes. She withdraws one, turning toward the building and striking a match against the brick.

That's when she first spots Mal's car, sitting in it's usual spot.

The candy apple red convertible is tucked in a spot that's usually overlooked—and given how often Mal is there and how long she sometimes stays, she's glad that's the spot her car occupies. It's hidden away behind the dumpster, and only a little bit of the bright hood is noticeable from the back; from the front, the car is completely concealed.

She smiles and lights her cigarette, making a mental note to switch the French toast on the morning menu to blueberry pancakes—they're easier to prep and they're Mal's favorite, and it's been awhile since she's visited. She's missed her.

Looking up at the little back apartment that Robin and Regina rent, she smiles again—and at first, she doesn't notice. She watches the way the curtains billow at the open window, every now and then a bit of light peeks through, only to vanish as the curtains twist. She can hear a little music—one of the Big Bands the kids listen to—and though it's not what she'd choose, she has to admit that it's soothing.

And then, she sees them.

Regina and Mal are sitting in the window, their silhouettes suddenly clear. They're tangled together in a way that's obviously intimate. Mal's arm is around Regina and Regina's hand is in Mal's hair, and judging by the tilt of their heads and the lack of discernible space between them, they're kissing.

She draws in a breath and keeps an eye on the window, sighing to herself.

The kiss isn't one that could be passed off as friendly or sisterly—and given the way that Regina leans into Mal and the way Mal's body curls toward Regina, there's no doubt that this is a lovers' embrace.

She knew.

She knew something was going on in the apartment across from hers; after all, she's heard muffled conversations through the vent before.

Well, to be honest, she's heard a lot more than _conversations_ through that vent.

But that wasn't any of her business—and besides that, some of the details she thought she'd picked up here and there were clearly wrong.

They had to be, or so she told herself.

"This is part of why I grayed so young," she sighs, looking back at the building across the street to the apartment that looks to theirs and she's glad to find the windows dark. "Always something."

Regina pulls back, looking into the apartment and laughing.

And that's when she thinks of Robin, her stomach flopping as she considers Regina's infidelity.

But her consideration goes no further than that moment.

She watches as Regina holds out her hand and then she watches as Robin joins them, sitting down beside Regina and leaning in to kiss her neck. For a moment, Regina leans back into him, and then Mal leans into her, her hand coasting up over Regina's face as she pulls her into another kiss.

Maybe she hadn't been so wrong, she thinks, shaking her head as she finally looks away, thinking of the thousands of little oddities that suddenly all make sense.

She goes back inside and preps the blueberry pancakes, her thoughts still swirling.

They're sweet kids, she decides—all three of them are.

Mal especially holds a soft spot in her heart.

For as long as she's known Mal, she's not sure that she really knows her.

One day, she showed up for breakfast and ended up leaving long after the diner closed; and then, after that, she just kept coming back and staying. They talked about art and history, traveling the world and politics, books and music, and though she couldn't quite relate to the girl, Mal was a lonely soul and she was glad to entertain her. The more she got to know her, the more attached she got to her, and she'd been genuinely glad that her newest tenants had taken a liking to her.

She didn't quite understand what she'd just witnessed in the window, but there was a lot about the world that she didn't understand, and when she considered those things, she struggled to find a whole lot of fault in what was happening in the apartment across the hall.

She put the pancake mixture into the refrigerator and climbed the stairs, flicking off the lights when she reached the top—and she found herself smiling at the sound of Mal's laugh ringing out.

Some might say what the three of them were doing was illegal or immoral, but when she heard that laugh—one that came so rarely—she couldn't quite see why it was wrong. They sounded happy. They sounded like they were having fun. They didn't sound so much unlike any other young lovers—there were simply three of them instead of two. And when she rented the apartment to Robin and Regina, she understood she was condoning the two of them living in sin—and though some told her she was crazy for doing that, that her restaurant would become synonymous with ill repute, she'd scoffed. She'd defended her choice to rent to the young, unmarried couple, and she'd defended their choice to live a life that worked for them.

She'd said then that it wasn't sin, it was love. This wasn't so different.

Pushing into her own apartment, she listens—it sounds like they've moved to the bedroom. She goes around, closing the vents in an effort to afford them a little more privacy. Then, as she turns on the shower and lets the water heat up, she makes a mental note to update the curtains in their apartment to a darker and heavier fabric—after all, she doubts the rest of the world would be as understanding.


	7. Home for the Holidays

_Regina's eyes flutter as a warm, summer breeze sweeps through the room. Despite the fact that it's only half-past nine, her body aches and keeping her eyes open seems to be an impossible task. Robin's fingers strum up and down from her shoulder to elbow and then back again. The lights are turned down low and every now and then she hears the rustling of a paper as he turns the page of his book, and though there doesn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to it, it's oddly rhythmic. She's in that comfortable in-between spot where she's not quite asleep, but definitely not asleep, and she's lost all sense of time._

 _And then, Mal comes out of the bathroom in a burst—and Regina jolts back into the present, her eyes flying open as she sits up and groggily looks to the bathroom door._

" _I've been thinking," Mal says, reaching behind herself and turning off the bathroom light. "I know that—oh." Her voice halts as her eyes fall to Robin and Regina curled up together in bed, and she frowns. "I didn't realize you'd fallen asleep."_

 _A groggy grin stretches across her lips, and she shrugs. "I didn't realize it, either."_

" _I did," Robin says, grinning as he looks over at her. "I've got a little damp spot on my t-shirt."_

 _Her eyes widen a little and her cheeks flush slightly as she reaches up and wipes her fingers over the corner of her mouth. "Well, I was_ really tired _," she tells him, her voice sounding a bit more defensive than she intends. "You two left_ me _to paint the dining room ceiling today, and I'm the shortest one."_

" _I know," Mal says, giggling softly as she joins them on the bed. "Which is why you couldn't help with the wallpaper in Henry's room."_

 _Regina's eyes roll. Even on a ladder, she was too short to reach the top of the wall and whenever she'd tried to help, she found herself standing shakily on the tips of her toes, frowning at uneven cowboys and indians. "But the_ ceiling…"

" _Looks crisp and bright, just as it should."_

 _Regina looks to Mal, watching as she twists the silky robe sash between her fingers. "You're trying to appease me. You two made me do the ceilings because no one looks at them, and you inevitably assumed I'd mess them up or—"_

" _Even if that's true," Robin says, hugging her into his side and pressing a kiss to her hair. "They look amazing."_

" _Really," Mal nods. "They do."_

 _Regina frowns. "You're both overselling."_

" _Would it help if we let you paint the living room?"_

 _Regina sighs. "I'll get paint on the moulding. You shouldn't—" Both Robin and Mal laugh out, and Regina pulls away from Robin, crossing her arms over her chest. "Look. I was raised to_ hire _people to do these sorts of things."_

" _So was I—"_

" _Isn't it fun though?' Robin asks._

" _My definition of_ fun _is vastly different, I think."_

" _We're nearly done though—"_

" _And then we can move in and—"_

" _I know, I know," Regina says, sighing as she looks between them. "I keep reminding myself of that. I can't wait to be actually living there. I'm over the_ moving in _portion of homeownership."_

 _Robin considers it and nods as Mal sits up, folding her legs underneath herself as she continues to twist the sash between her fingers. "About that…"_

 _Regina blinks as she looks to Mal. "About_ what _?"_

" _Moving in—"_

" _You're not backing out or—"_

" _No, no, no," Mal cuts in. "Nothing like that. I swear." Regina nods, glances to Robin whose face suddenly looks serious and she feels her stomach flop. "I just… when I was in the shower, I started thinking, and I know that you two think that we can be open and nonchalant about our relationship, but—"_

" _Mal, I don't think either of us is comfortable with—"_

" _I'm not saying we have to keep it a complete secret," Mal cuts in. "I'm just saying I think we should keep it on a need-to-know basis."_

" _A need-to-know basis," Robin repeats. "And what exactly does that mean?"_

 _Taking a breath, Mal clarifies. "Granny knows, and Ruby, and a few of your friends, but other than that, I don't think we should broadcast to the world what goes on in our bedroom."_

" _Of course not, but—"_

" _I just think we need rules." Regina glaces to Robin, and then they both look to Mal, waiting for her to continue. "Your sons are starting a new school in a couple of weeks, and I would hate for them to make friends at school, but never be able to have them over or—" She sighs. "I don't want this to affect them."_

" _Mal, they_ adore _you," Robin says, reaching out and touching his hand to her knee. "They love having you here with us, and—"_

" _And they don't know who I am to you."_

" _That's not going to last forever," Regina says. "I know it'll be an adjustment, but they'll adjust."_

" _Yes._ They _will. Their friends, or more importantly, their friends parents… I don't know about that."_

 _Regina blinks as she looks to Robin, and admittedly, it's a fair point. Their relationship is atypical, and while she doesn't see that as any reason to hide it, the vast majority of people she's encountered in her lifetime struggle to accept the things they don't understand._

 _They've had the luxury or sorting out their relationship during the summer months, and for the last several weeks, they've enjoyed the privacy of Mal's cottage. Falling back into old patterns proved easy, and they all knew they'd been lucky with the response from the friends and family they'd let in—in fact, it sometimes seemed too lucky._

 _And as Mal pointed out, two of the most important people in their lives still don't know, and when they do find out, it will be an adjustment."_

" _So, what are you suggesting?"_

 _A slight grin edges onto her lips and she draws in a short breath—and then, in another burst she goes on to spin a story explaining her presence in their life and there's just enough truth in it to make it seem plausible, to let it go unquestioned._

 _Mal decides that she's an old friend from law school who'd recently gone through a divorce. She's never been alone and has no plans to ever fall in love again, and simply wants to be near people who love her. Of course, it's a winning situation for everyone involved. Up until the boys started school, they'd employed a nanny, but now that they are older, they don't need that much assistance, so a friend willing to lend a helping hand with their two adorably precocious little boys is exactly what they needed._

" _Alright," Regina concedes. "And suppose one of us slips and takes your hand or—"_

" _Some people are just affectionate with their friends."_

 _Regina's brow arches. "I don't think my feelings for you could ever be construed as_ sisterly—"

 _Mal laughs. "Well, no, but people see what they want to see."_

" _She has a point," Robin says. "I don't_ love _this idea, but I could live with it."_

" _Especially for your boys' sake," Mal says, this time focusing on Regina. "I would_ hate myself _if they couldn't have friends over because of me—"_

" _Well, it wouldn't be because of_ you _."_

" _Not directly, but if their parents thought something unusual was going on, the three of us wouldn't be the ones to suffer. Henry and Roland would, and being the new kids is already hard enough. I don't want to further complicate their situation." A grin twists onto Mal's lips as she gives Regina's knee a little squeeze. "Besides, there's something sexy about keeping it all underwraps, don't you think?"_

 _Regina sighs and looks to Robin, who only shrugs. "The boys don't even know yet. I'd hate for them to figure it out through gossip or—"_

" _We were already planning on setting up a separate room for me, so—"_

" _That was for… looks and closet space."_

 _Mal grins. "I'm glad you mentioned the tiny closets."_

 _Robin's eyes narrow and slide momentarily to Regina, then back to Mal. "I… feel like we're suddenly talking about something else."_

" _Oh, we're not," Mal assures him, a soft little laugh rising into her voice. "But I couldn't help but notice the closet in my fake room backs directly up to the closet in the master bedroom."_

" _Okay," Regina murmurs, not quite following. "What does that have to do with any of this?"_

" _I want to put a door at the back of the closets, to connect them."_

 _Robin's brow furrows. "A door to connect them—"_

" _Yes, like those hotel rooms with the doors that open up to another room," Mal says, sounding more excited than she should. "That way, if we ever have company that stays over—"_

" _We don't have company that stays over," Regina's quick to say. "No one visits."_

 _Mal's brow arches. "Your father does."_

" _Oh."_

" _And he wasn't even okay with you sleeping with your boyfriend in graduate school."_

" _I was her fiancé, actually," Robin says, sighing._

" _And I know he comes to visit on occasion," Mal says, looking pointedly at Regina. "And if Henry or Roland wants to have a friend or two spend the night? We can't have them going home and telling their parents about the strange blonde woman who goes to bed with the Locksleys."_

" _What are going to do? Hide in your fake room until the coast is clear?"_

" _No," Mal says, grinning. "I'll sneak in through the door in the closet."_

" _Mal, that's—"_

 _Mal's smile fades and something behind her eyes changes. "This isn't easy, you know, and it's not going to get easier over time. There has to be some element of disguise because people aren't suddenly going to just be okay with the way we choose to live our lives. We have to protect ourselves as best as we can b-because… because..." Mal's voice cracks and fades her eyes fall away Regina's. "I just can't lose you two."_

" _Mal—"_

" _Mal, that's not going to happen."_

" _We've been in this… this bubble." Mal says softly as she looks back up at them. "And it's been wonderful and perfect and I can't even tell you the last time I felt this comfortable in my own skin, but… but the truth is that the reason it's felt that way is because we've been so disconnected from the rest of the world. When we move, that won't be the case. It's going to be harder. There will be more eyes watching. There will be rumors. So, if we can stave that off for awhile—forever, even—why wouldn't we?"_

 _Reaching out, Robin takes Mal's hand tugging her toward them. Regina smiles gently as Mal lets him pull her into his arms, and once she's settled, Regina leans in, resting her head on Mal's shoulder. "This is going to work. It's going to last, and, no matter what happens, we're going to figure it all out together," he tells her. "You're not going to be the odd one out."_

" _You're sweet to say that."_

" _It's the truth," Regina adds. "It's not just a nice sentiment. He means it._ We _mean it."_

 _Mal cuddles in as Regina rolls onto her side, no longer tired and suddenly wrapped up in thoughts of all the times they could have told Roland and Henry the truth about who Mal is to them but hadn't._

 _Mal is right—there is something sexy and fun about it being a secret hidden in plain sight—and while she doesn't care much about others opinions, having the last weeks of summer to process and adjust could have been beneficial. Of course, they'd picked up on little things here and there, they'd seen things that could easily have just been something else, but weren't; and she knows it is only a matter of time before they walk in on something that can't be dismissed or explained away._

" _You do know you're never actually sleeping in that room, right?" Turning her head, Mal looks to her. "I don't care if my father is here or the boys have friends staying the night. We're not going to change the way we live to accommodate someone else."_

" _Well, no, but—"_

" _And it's not an escape route," Robin adds. "If someone—the boys, for example—come in unexpectedly, you don't have to scurry away and go into hiding."_

" _Seems like it'd get a little crowded and…" Mal's voice trails off as she laughs, rolling onto her back between them and resting her hands on her stomach as her fingers return to the sash holding her robe closed. "Listen. If I have a hundred-and-two degree fever or am all congested and snotty and gross, I'm not spreading that to you. And if one of you is sick, it might be nice having somewhere to go and spread out. I really just mean that we'd keep it up for appearances. Being the new kid is hard. It's even harder being the new kid who has weird parents." She grins as Robin and Regina exchange looks. "And I'd hate for little Joey or Stanley or whomever Henry and Roland choose as a friend to go home and tell his parents just how weird Henry and Roland parents are, not to mention the tall blonde lady that follows them to bed."_

" _It's not like we'll be groping each other in the hall or…" Mal's brow arches as Robin's voice fades and a guilty yet mischievous grin twists onto his lips. "I'm sure we can behave when company's over. We're all reasonable adults. We're not in college anymore."_

" _Right," Regina murmurs in a voice that's less than convincing. "But at the same time, this new house is going to be our home and we should be comfortable there—all of us."_

" _But it's Henry and Roland's home, too, and I don't want them to be uncomfortable because of me." Robin's lips part as if he's about to protest, but no words come, and Regina watches as Mal pulls herself onto her elbows. "Besides, it'll be nice to have a dressing room."_

" _A dressing room," he repeats. "What the hell would that be for?"_

 _Regina's brows arch. "Exactly what it sounds like."_

" _I get that," he says, rolling his eyes as both she and Mal giggle softly. "Why do you need one."_

" _It's not a matter of need," Mal tells him. "It's a matter of want."_

" _That's not a bad idea," Regina says, finally beginning to warm to the idea of a second bedroom. "With three of us getting ready and storing all of our things in the same room, it's going to get crowded."_

 _Mal nods. "The closet would essentially be a double closet."_

" _And the room would be set up like a bedroom with dressers and a makeup table and… maybe even a little reading nook."_

" _Mm, that would be nice," Mal agrees. "There's that window that looks at that big oak tree out back and—"_

" _And something tells me," Robin says flatly, "this room is going to be hers and hers."_

" _Well, we have more stuff," Mal replies, her blue eyes widening innocently. "It's not like you'd be completely banished."_

" _If space is the issue, we could knock down the wall."_

" _Ah, but it's not the only issue."_

 _Regina grins. "Really. I'm starting to warm to this idea."_

" _Of course," Robin says, "She's talking about building the two of you a refuge."_

" _Well, that's really a secondary purpose," Mal tells him, turning her head to face him. "A happy accident, of sorts. The real purpose is discretion."_

" _Mm—" Regina murmurs. "But that discretion could also be reached with a good lock and—"_

 _Mal turns her head to look at her. "And a magic wand that'll make me invisible as I enter a room?"_

" _I'd never want that," Regina says, waiting for Mal's eyes to meet hers before she smiles, then looks briefly to Robin. "I think that can be said for both of us."_

" _It can," Robin confirms, sliding down and rolling onto his side so that he's lying beside Mal. "But as long as we can agree that it's simply for appearances…" he adds, his voice trailing off as his finger slips underneath the robe covering Mal's shoulder, loosening it. "Then I suppose I can live with it."_

 _Mal turns her head, watching as Robin presses a kiss to her shoulder. "I promise. That's all it is."_

" _Good," Regina says, reaching out and turning her chin back toward her, and grinning as their eyes meet again. "I'm glad we've come to an understanding."_

" _Mmm, me too," Mal murmurs as Regina leans in, watching as Mal's smile forms, before her lips press to hers. Regina smiles, too, as her tongue traces Mal's bottom lip and she feels Robin's hand coast up her thigh—then, giggling softly, she reaches between them and tugs open Mal's robe._

* * *

Over the course of the past few months, Mal had gotten increasingly used to being alone with Robin and Regina's children. At first, it'd been awkward and she always feared doing or saying the wrong thing; but Henry and Roland are easy-going and well-mannered little boys who remind her so much of their parents, and being around them is easy.

And, they seemed to genuinely like her.

Especially Roland.

Which was fantastic because, at the moment, she has no idea where their parents are, and it seems the three of them might be spending an evening in, alone.

Smiling gently, she moves into the living room where Roland is perched on the arm of a chair, staring out the window. Henry's sitting just below the window, his back against the wall and a book propped up against his knees; and though Roland looks worried, Henry looks as if he doesn't have a care in the world.

"Are they coming?" Roland asks, looking back at her as her fingers twist through a curly lock of his hair. "How long since they called?"

"Almost two hours," Mal replies. "They said they'd be late."

"But this is _really_ late," Roland tells her, his eyes widening as he looks back toward the window. "Look how dark it is outside."

Henry sighs. "It's not even seven. It just looks dark because its winter."

Roland frowns. "It's still late."

"They'll be home soon," Mal says, hoping her promise isn't empty. "Why don't we go and—"

"I need cookies."

A grin pulls onto Mal's lips. "You want a snack?"

"No," Roland tells her, looking back at her and shaking his head. "I need cookies for tomorrow."

Mal's brow furrows as Henry looks up. "We're having a Christmas party at school tomorrow," Henry clarifies. "Dad said he'd help make them."

"Mom burned them last year," Roland explains.

A little laugh escapes her—of course Regina burned the Christmas cookies. "Well," she begins, clearing her throat as she inhales a breath, holding it as her smile fades and she considers whether or not she's overstepping. "I could… help you make cookies." She watches as Roland looks to Henry. "It could pass the time until your mom and dad get home."

"Can we eat some?" Henry asks, his hazel eyes glittering as he folds his book down in his lap.

"After they're baked, we'll _have_ to test them," Mal replies, feeling her shoulders loosen as she exhales.

"What about _before_?" Roland asks. "Cookie dough is—"

"An excellent way to get salmonella," Mal says, laughing softly as he pouts out his bottom lip. "And your parents would never forgive me if I poisoned you."

Henry laughs as Roland lets out a disappointed sigh, and both boys get up and follow her into the kitchen. She grabs a cookbook from the shelf and she watches as they climb up onto the stools at the counter. Together they choose a relatively simple gingerbread recipe, and Henry helps her get together the ingredients as Roland asks a thousand questions.

It's amusing to her how much Henry and Roland are like their parents—Henry stands back and observes similar to Robin and like Regina, Roland wants answers to everything. Mal answers them all, barely looking at the recipe as she mixes and doing her best not to move too quickly, so that Henry can see what she's doing. Once the dough is made, the boys giggle as they squish and roll the dough in their hands to make little gingerbread balls; then, instead of flattening them out with a fork, she instructs them to smash them down with their palms, earning more giggles.

Once the cookies are into the oven, she mixes up the icing ingredients and then gets the food coloring, laughing when the boys' eyes light up when she sets the little bottles in front of them and tells them to make a mess.

Roland and Henry waste no time mixing yellow, blue and red into little bowls, and then they start to experiment. They make green and purple, and Henry beams proudly as he mixes together a pretty teal color while Roland frowns as he mixes together a disappointing brown.

"You know," Mal begins, leaning her elbows against the counter. "I think we've got enough dough here to make another batch of cookies… or a little house." Both boys look to her and she grins. "But we'd need candy for that and—"

"I know where Mom hides our halloween candy!" Roland cuts in, practically jumping up from his chair.

Henry grins. "She _thinks_ we don't know that she steals it, so when some goes missing, she always blames Dad."

A soft chuckle bubbles out of her as she images Regina scolding Robin for the missing chocolate. "Well, that's not entirely fair, but—"

"It's better than _us_ getting in trouble," Roland says as he climbs atop the counter and opens up a cabinet. "She even keeps it in a candy box."

"As if we wouldn't look there."

Again, Mal laughs. "Oh, that's not very well hidden, then, is it?"

"Nope!" Roland grabs the tin and hops down and she holds her breath as he jumps, bypassing the chair altogether as his feet smack down on the tile floor. "But we're not gonna tell her it's a bad idea."

"Of course not," Mal says, accepting the tin and smiling, remembering when Regina opened up the tin of chocolates one Christmas when they'd exchanged gifts with Granny. "Some secrets are meant to stay secrets."

"Even when they're not _really_ secrets."

"Exactly," she murmurs, blinking up at Henry as her stomach momentarily clenches—and then, she reminds herself that he's a child and he doesn't know about the real nature of her relationship with his parents. "Alright, let's see what we have here…"

She dumps out the tin and helps the boys begin to sort it into piles. They have piles of gummies and chocolates, wafers and candy corn, and when the oven dings, she gets up to grab their cookies while they continue to sort lemon drops from raspberry drops from peppermints.

Setting the cookies aside, she shapes the remainder of the dough into the sides of the house and little roof, and by the time she pops the pieces into the oven, the cookies are cooled enough to start decorating.

"Oh my, what's going on in here?" Regina calls as Mal rounds the counter with a plate of ready-to-decorate cookies. "It smells _amazing_."

"It really does," Robin says. "Is that—"

"Gingerbread!" Roland exclaims. "For school."

Robin frowns. "Just for school? Why _just_ for school?"

Roland giggles as he grabs him by the arms, lifting him up from his chair and tossing him in the air before catching him and cuddling him as he sits in his son's spot—and then both boys launch into a very long explanation about their classes Christmas parties and how they both signed up to bring cookies.

Regina kisses them each atop the head before rounding the counter and taking Mal by the hand. "Thank you for watching them."

"You don't have to thank me for that."

"I know, but we were late and—"

"We had fun."

Regina beams. "I can see that."

Mal nods. "Well, they wanted—"

"They adore you, you know that?"

Mal's cheeks flush. "Adore is a bit strong of a word, I think."

"I disagree." Regina glances to the table where Robin and the boys are each decorating a cookie, and then, without warning, she leans up onto her toes and presses a quick kiss to Mal's cheek—and though it's fast, it leaves her flustered. "Did you and the boys eat, or—"

"Yes, and there are plates for you and Robin," Mal says, her cheeks still warm from the kiss. "We had beef stew and—"

"Roland ate beef stew?"

Mal's brows arch quizzically and Roland looks over at them. "I didn't know beef stew was supposed to taste like that."

Henry giggles. "It _was_ really good."

Regina frowns as Robin laughs. "So, in just a few months you've gotten him to eat beef stew, salmon, and asparagus." Mal just shrugs. "Well, I can't wait to eat it. I am _starving_."

"I'd imagine so," Robin chimes in, not looking up from the cookie he's icing. "You worked up quite an appetite this evening." Regina's cheeks flush and Mal's brow juts up, and neither Henry nor Roland seems to pick up on the suggestive comment. "My desk finally arrived and I needed help moving it in."

"Ah, I see," Mal says, a grin twisting onto her lips. "Something like that would work up an appetite."

"Mmm, it did," Regina says—and then, she leans in, giving Mal's hand a little squeeze, her voice dropping to a whisper. "We owe you one."

"You don't," Mal says, her thumb rubbing at Regina's wrist. "There's not a scoresheet." And then a grin twists onto her lips and a soft giggle escapes her as Robin looks to her. "But that won't stop me from accepting or cashing in a raincheck."

"Good," Robin says, rising up from the table, looking behind himself at the boys, happily and distractedly decorating cookies before pressing a quick kiss to her lips as Regina twists away from her, reaching for the refrigerator. "I'm glad to hear that."

"Now," Regina murmurs. "Where is this beef stew?

* * *

 _Robin smiles as he steps into the house, looking around at the sea of boxes piled in the living room._

 _Everything looks new and fresh—and it should, considering that he, Regina, and Mal spent the summer renovating the house. Together, they all picked out the colors on the walls and the carpets on the floors, they selected furniture for every room, dishes and rugs, bedding and towels._

 _The boys kept a few things from their last house, but for the most part, they'd decided their rooms were too babyish—and while that stung a bit for both him and Regina, they had to admit most of things in the boys' rooms at the old house had been purchased for their first "big boy rooms."_

 _Henry chose a western theme, inspired by a rainy-day viewing of "Valley of Fury," a fictional biography of Chief Crazy Horse that sparked an interest in Native American culture and the western states. He poured over copies of National Geographic and by the time summer came to an end, he'd read every book about cowboys and indians the small, local library had to offer. So, his room was done up accordingly. The quilt for his bed was blue and at the end of his bed was a hand-woven afghan in a tribal basketweave pattern. The same fabric covered his desk chair and four framed feathers hung above his bed. There was a long, decorative arrow above his closet and the feathers on the end of it matched the ones above his bed, and on the wall opposite his bed were framed pictures he'd painstakingly chosen from National Geographic._

 _They'd found a black porcelain desk lamp at a rummage sale and Mal spent days painting a Native American warrior on his horse onto it. The final touch was a dream catcher that Henry made himself._

 _There was a bookshelf with all of Henry's favorite books and magazines, and to Regina's relief, Henry made sure the teddy bear he often claimed he was too old for had a special and prominent spot in his room._

 _Roland's room was simpler to decorate. He asked for a forest theme. They'd found a quilt in greens and browns, and painted the walls a dark green shade. His pillows were all embroidered with pine trees and woodland creatures, and just as Henry had, Roland selected a few pictures from National Geographic to go on the walls. Compared to Henry's room, it looked a little plain, so Mal spent a day painting a forest mural on the far wall opposite his bed. She replaced the fixtures on his dresser and desk with ones shaped like leaves, and Regina found a desk lamp with little grizzly bears on the shade and glued little branches to brown frames to make the room a bit more woodsy._

 _While Regina and Mal were painting, Robin took Roland to the pet store and they bought an aquarium to turn into a new bedroom for Michy. The bottom was covered in sand and pebbles and they inserted a glass divider to create a little pool for him to swim. There were plants and sticks, and a little hut for him to hide in. At the same rummage sale where they'd found Henry's lamp, they found a little table to set the aquarium on top of, and Roland positioned it right in front of a window, so that Michy could enjoy the sunshine._

 _The bathroom that joined the boys' rooms was done up in blues and greens, pulling in a few things that matched both bedrooms, and Robin could hardly wait for them to see the finished products._

 _But his favorite room was theirs._

 _Making his way up the stairs, he smiles listening to Regina and Mal unpacking and trying to decide where things should go._

 _The room is large-much larger than their bedroom at the old house-and the windows that overlook the front yard make it seem even larger. It's airy yet cozy, and though it's not yet complete, it already feels like a retreat from the world._

 _There's a soft green colored chaise lounge by the window and bookshelf behind it. The six shelves are divided between the three of them, and a large lamp hangs over the chaise, making it a perfect reading nook. The window overlooks the side lot and wrap around porch, and from the corner of his eye, he can see the spot they've designated for a treehouse._

 _The bed after a lengthy argument about its placement ended up at the center of the room, framed by two large windows. They'd found the quilt at a little shop in town near the university, and though it was a little feminine for his taste, that was to be expected, and even he had to admit that in the nearly-complete room, it looked rather nice._

 _The quilt was a patchwork style, made up of scraps of floral print fabrics. Some were dark gray and adorned with apple blossoms, others were a crimson marked with roses, and others were a light pink emboldened with magnolias. Between each patch of four triangles was a creamy colored fabric adorned with ivy leaves that matched the sheets and throw pillows Regina and Mal picked out. For an accent wall, they'd painted one a dark, yet cool gray and found gray-washed furniture to go with it all. Mal spent hours picking out frames and ended up choosing a sleek white modern style with either crimson or soft green mats to sit around the pictures; then, painstaking, they'd chosen pictures from Mal's collection to sit atop the dressers and for the walls._

 _They'd chosen a few shots of birds for the area by the window, and above their bed was a set of six pictures-three florals she'd taken on various road trips and three more personal yet subtle ones. The first was a picture of Regina's favorite coffee cup sitting atop a stack of her favorite books, the next was Robin's worn hiking boots sitting out to dry on the back porch, and the last was Mal's old camera, sitting atop its tripod. The backgrounds of each were blurred, making the photos more striking, and though the film was black and white, every detail seemed to stand out against their blurry backdrops._

 _On the dresser, there were less subtle pictures that sat on either side of a vase of flowers. The first and most noticeable was the photo taken a few months earlier when they'd gone to the camp to see the boys—the first picture of the five of them together—and then opposite was the first picture they'd taken of the three of them, all smiles and curled up underneath the blankets together in their old apartment's bedroom. At that particular photo, Mal balked, suggesting at least a dozen more that would be more appropriate; but Regina stood her ground and eventually, Mal's resolve diminished._

 _And he was glad for it._

 _He liked that they were all represented in this room—that it wasn't only his and Regina's, that it wasn't a place where Mal could visit when she wanted to, but a place where she belonged._

 _Of course, Mal actually had a bedroom at the house._

 _It was simple, with a full sized bed and a cream and tan crocheted bedspread. There were a few pictures on the wall—again, Mal's work—and they were merely pictures she liked. There was no theme. A large, stand up jewelry box stood on one side of the window and on the other side, was a round, full-length mirror. The dressing table, however, was lined with perfumes and cosmetics, and though it hadn't been overtly decided, he could already tell the girls would use the room to get dressed, giving them some more space—and for Regina, a space to do her hair and makeup without two little boys "assisting."_

 _The rooms were joined by a large walk-in closet._

 _They'd expanded it from its original design, taking some space away from the second bedroom, so that each of them could have a section to themselves, and he'd laughed at the realization that his section was the smallest one, a detail both Regina and Mal claimed was completely unintentional. Yet, when their clothes were moved in, their sides were jam-packed while his was still roomy, and he willingly gave them each a shelf._

 _It seemed a small sacrifice to make when he considered everything he'd gained..._

 _His smile brightens a the sight of them—both with their hair swept up. Regina's is pulled back into a stumpy little ponytail. There are a few straying strands that are curling from the heat, and she's wearing a loose pair of jean shorts that are rolled up to the middle of her thigh She's barefoot and wearing a paint-stained gingham shirt that has cut off sleeves and is knotted at the front, showing off a bit of her stomach whenever she reaches for something. Mal's hair is pulled back in a braid with a red bandana holding back the front. She's wearing scandalously short shorts—which given the length probably belong to Regina—and a fitted tank top. She's standing on a ladder and holding a framed picture as Regina directs her left then right, then a little more right, then a smidgen to the left._

 _A smirk edges onto his lips as he wraps his arm around Regina's waist and pulls her back against him. "I know what you're doing," he whispers into her ear. "I like this game too."_

 _She grins and looks back at him. "Really, it's not my fault her ass looks that good in those shorts."_

" _I heard that," Mal calls, looking back at them. "And it's going to be your fault when this crooked picture drives you crazy everyday."_

" _It won't drive me crazy," Regina retorts, grinning as she lifts her chin. "Because every time I look at it, I'll think of you in those shorts."_

 _Robin chuckles as Mal's eyes roll._

" _At that rate, why not just put up a picture of my ass?"_

 _Robin grins. "I'm not opposed to that."_

" _It'd ruin the theme," Mal sighs, turning back to the pictures and examining them. "I'm still not completely sure I like these birds."_

" _I like them," Regina says, grinning. "And I like what they make me think of."_

 _Mal grins, looking back at her. "Please tell me it's something other than my ass."_

" _Well—"_

 _Robin laughs, remembering all the weeks Mal spent with them under the guise of birdwatching and how she'd taken two entire rolls of film one day at the park simply to cover her tracks if anyone asked to see the pictures she'd supposedly taken._

" _I like the little fat one," he says, pointing to one of the pictures to the right of Mal of a puffed up bird on a snowy evergreen branch. "He looks… squishy."_

 _Mal looks from him to the picture and back to him again. "And that most certainly better not be some sort of commentary about my ass."_

 _This time, Regina laughs. "Just hang the picture. It'll be fine, and then we can move onto more exciting things."_

" _That may or may not involve your ass."_

 _Mal's eyes roll and she picks up the hammer, driving a nail into the wall-and then, just before she hangs the picture, she hesitates. Regina groans and Mal chuckles softly as she hangs a picture of a bluebird, perched on a water fountain. "There."_

" _Now come down—"_

" _I thought you were enjoying the view."_

" _I am," Regina admits. "But there are other things I'd rather enjoy now, and I'd enjoy them much more if they were within my reach."_

" _And to be clear," Robin says as Mal starts down the latter. "I'm pretty sure that is a commentary about your ass."_

 _Regina offers a sheepish grin. "It is."_

" _Well, that's going to have to wait," Mal says as she reaches the ground. "We still have a lot to do."_

" _Nothing that can't wait," Robin insists._

" _Yeah," Regina murmurs, pouting out her bottom lip. "I worked up quite a sweat… watching you hang all these pictures."_

 _Mal's eyes roll. "You worked up a sweat because it's like a million and ten degrees outside." And then, a smirk edges into Mal's lips. "I could use a little break to cool down, though. Maybe have a popsicle or something."_

" _Or something, eh?"_

" _Oh, I actually mean a popsicle," Mal says, laughing as she takes them both by the hand. "And I'm not above lounging around in that kiddie pool we've got set up."_

" _Next summer, I think we're going to have to spring for a real pool," Robin murmurs. "But for now, this will have to do."_

" _There's only a few more weeks of this sort of weather—"_

" _And there's always the lake," Mal says, leading them toward the stairs._

 _He goes out to the yard to fill up the pool with some colder water and Regina goes to the freezer for the popsicles. He grins as Mal pulls over some lawn chairs, setting them up around the pool so they can more easily relax and soak their feet._

 _Regina joins them, handing out the cherry-flavored popsicles, and as he winds up the hose, he watches Regina and Mal whispering to each other—and then, no sooner than he thinks to ask, their tops come off._

 _He feels a dopey grin edge over his lips at the realization that they've both opted to go braless today. He looks around as they settle back in the chairs with their popsicles, suddenly very grateful for the trees and privacy fence that surround their property._

" _You two are really going to make it impossible for me to cool down," Robin says as he joins them._

" _Are you really complaining?" Regina asks, her eyebrow arching._

 _Mal grins and looks over at him. "If I can even out these tan lines—"_

" _I am absolutely not complaining," he says, pulling off his own shirt and easing back into the chair beside her. "Just… enjoying your sudden care about tan lines."_

 _Then, no one says anymore about it, instead deciding to enjoy the cool water at their feet, the warm sun on their skin, and the distinct feeling of home._

* * *

Regina frowns as the snow falls outside, accumulating on the windowsills and tree branches. She can barely see the car at the end of the driveway and she can no longer make out the neighbor's house on the opposite side of the fence.

It's been snowing since the previous night. At first, it was exciting—the first snow of the season. The phone rang just as they'd tucked the boys into bed. Mal answered it and took down the note, informing her and Robin that school had been cancelled for the next day. Robin didn't have to report to work—a job that didn't pay him could afford such benefits as inclement weather days—and early that morning the dean of her department informed her that the university, too, would be closed.

Unbeknownst to them, the boys slept in and while Regina went up to wake them, Mal and Robin made a big pancake breakfast. They spent the day playing in the snow, and Mal made a big pot of tomato soup for lunch. Regina used the time off to tie up some loose ends on her lecture notes and Robin spent the day cuddled up with a blanket on the chaise lounge catching up on some articles he'd been saving to read—and for the most part, it'd been a relaxing and enjoyable day for all.

But dark came early and the snow kept up, and by the time dinner was going into the oven, the boys were getting antsy. They'd been together all day, so they were bickering and now, they were confined indoors. And what was worse was that Robin was no different than his sons.

"I… don't think we're going to be able to go tonight," she says, turning to Henry, Roland, and Robin. "I doubt we can even get the car down the driveway, let alone to the tree lot across town."

"But you promised," Robin whines. "We've been waiting and waiting and—"

"Roland, stop," Henry sighs as his arms cross over his chest. "Maybe tomorrow."

"Yeah," Regina nods. "Maybe tomorrow."

"Unless it snows some more," Roland mutters.

"Well, if there's enough snow to cancel school, then—"

"Snow isn't supposed to cancel the fun stuff."

Henry's eyes roll as he looks to his brother. "That's not how it works."

"Well, it should be."

Robin looks tentatively to the window, craning his neck as if he's looking for something—something that's likely covered in snow.

"We could probably go out and play in it," Henry says, sounding disappointed. "Until dinner or something."

"You could," Regina says, nodding. "As long as you stay close. I'd hate for—"

"I have an idea," Robin says, cutting in. "A brilliant one, if I do say so myself." The boys look to him and her brow arches skeptically as he rises. "It's not a far walk—"

"Robin, there's at least a foot of snow out there. They can't walk all the way—"

"We'll take the sleds."

"That's—"

"Oh my god, really!?" Roland asks, jumping up and looking at his father with wide expectant eyes. "That'd be so much fun!"

"Yeah," Henry echoes. "Can we? Please?"

She sighs as three sets of eyes shift to her, hating when she's left to be the bad guy. "Robin, think about this logicially—"

"I am—"

"Are you?" She sighs. "So, you'll pull the boys there. How will you get them back? You'll be lugging a six-foot tree back."

For a moment, Robin considers it. "We have two sleds."

"Robin—"

"I'll hook them together with twine. The boys can stand and hold onto the tree—"

"Robin, you're not a Siberian Husky. You're not—"

"Regina, I'm not going to put them in danger. We're talking about a mile."

"In snow."

"It'll be fun."

Crossing her arms, she sighs. She knows there's no reasoning with him, especially when the boys are on his side. Biting down on her lip, she looks to the stairs, wishing that Mal would hurry up and come down with the Christmas decorations they'd tucked away in the attic simply so someone might be on her side. Perhaps she'd be able to pull out statistics about frostbite and hypothermia and—

Her thoughts halt.

There's also a definite possibility that she'd be on Robin's side and start spewing off about putting warmed potatoes in the boys' pockets to keep them warm.

"Fine," she concedes. "Just… be careful."

"I will," Robin says, grinning quickly in her direction before ordering the boys to go and put on their snow gear.

Regina sighs as she watches Robin and the boys go out the back door, watching as they trudge to the garage. For a moment, Robin struggles to force open the door—and then, just as she gets her hopes up that his plan will be foiled, the door pops open and all three boys rush inside.

"I… think you could use a little hot cocoa," Mal says, coming down the stairs and turning into the kitchen.

"I could've used a little backup," Regina tells her. "This is all an _incredibly stupid_ idea."

Mal grins, offering her sympathy. "Sometimes, there's no rationalizing with men once they've got an idea in their heads." Her hand falls to Regina's arm and she rubs gently, careful not to make her touch look too intimate as they stand in the open window. "I'm sure it'll work out. Robin knows what he's doing. He'd never do something to put them in danger."

"Not willingly—"

"Give him a little credit."

Regina nods, turning to her and grinning. "You said something about cocoa?" She asks, pushing away the flurry of worst case scenarios that are swimming around in her head. "That sounds nice."

"Yours will get a bit of brandy."

"Even better."

"It'll be okay," Mal tells her again. "They'll either get to the end of the street and realize the plan isn't viable, or they'll get to the lot and realize they can't bring back the tree." She shrugs and fills a pot with water. "They'll go and get it tomorrow, and the boys will have had an adventure."

"And if they succeed, I'll end up with a wet tree in my living room."

Mal chuckles softly. "Maybe we can convince them to leave it on the sunporch."

"Maybe—"

"They're bound to be tired after this."

Regina nods. "That's true."

"I found the ornaments and lights," Mal says. "We could pop some popcorn and have the boys string it."

"That could be fun—"

"And I've got a whole box of wooden beads and buttons—"

Regina's brow furrows as Mal sets the pot on the stove and reaches for a can of cocoa from the cupboard. "Why?"

Mal shrugs. "I found them at a rummage sale and thought they might be useful one day." She grins back at Regina and turns on the stove. "Looks like I was right." Regina grins and nods, watching as Robin and the boys emerge from the garage with the sleds—and to her dismay and their delight, they begin down the driveway. "They'll make ornaments from them. It'll be fun.

"Yeah—"

Mal looks to the window. "They'll all be fine."

Again, Regina nods and when Robin and the boys are down the driveway, she comes up behind Mal and wraps her arms around her waist, resting her head on her shoulder blade. Mal grins back at her and continues to make two cups of cocoa.

When it's ready, she squirts some whipped cream on top of each mug and sticks a candy cane in each. Regina curls her fingers through Mal's as they move to the family room.

A fire is already roaring and the lights are off, and Mal tugs her down onto the couch, wrapping them up in a blanket.

"This is nice," Regina murmurs, feeling her anxiety melting away with each sip of cocoa and each stroke of Mal's fingers over her arm. "Really nice."

"Mm," Mal hums. "I think this is the first quiet moment we've had all day."

"It is," Regina replies, laughing softly as she finishes her cocoa and leans back into Mal, tugging the blanket up around her shoulders. "I didn't even realize—"

"It wasn't so bad."

"Wasn't it? All the yelling and stomping and—"

"Is that why you were so edgy by the time Robin decided to take the boys for a tree?"

"I wasn't edgy—"

"Regina—"

"I wasn't."

"You still are," Mal murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Just relax and enjoy the temporary reprieve."

Mal's fingers are warm on her skin, slipping underneath the hem of her sweater and sliding back and forth along her stomach. She grins as Mal's lips find the crook of her neck, and she finds herself leaning into her touch.

No one quite does this for her the way Mal does, no one can calm her down so quickly.

She and Robin have always been passionate. There were times their fights lasted for weeks. The make up, of course, was always glorious, but they were both far too stubborn for their own good. But Mal had a way of defusing her before she reached the point before her frustration boiled over—she could do it with both of them and often at the same time—and she did so seemingly effortlessly.

Mal's lips slide up to Regina's jaw and she laughs as her tongue flicks at Regina's ear. Underneath her sweater, Mal's hand slides higher, skimming up her stomach and stopping just before her fingers touch the lace fabric of her bra. Her head falls back, forcing Mal's lips to slip to her cheek and then she turns, catching her lips between hers.

They're warm and soft and taste like peppermint cocoa, and she thinks she could easily stay right here in this moment forever.

For awhile, they trade lazy kisses and lingering touches—wanting to go further, but knowing that they can't, and somehow, that adds a bit of a thrill.

Regina rolls over, licking her bottom lip and grinning up at Mal as she eases back against the arm of the couch. She sits up and looks down at Mal, grinning as her eyes linger on the buttons of Mal's sweater. Biting down on her lip, she looks up, wondering how far she can push this—wondering what they can get away with—before Robin and the boys return with the tree.

She undoes one and then another before leaning in and kissing along Mal's clavicle. She can feel Mal's heart racing and she grins and looks up at her. Mal grins back and her arms wrap around her, her hand sliding over her ass and then around her hip. Regina's brow arches as Mal's hand dips into the waistband of her pants.

Keeping an eye on the door, Regina sits up, undoing the top button of her pants and giving Mal a little room before leaning in and undoing two more buttons of Mal's sweater. She straddles her hips as her hand coasts up Mal's stomach, cupping her breast through the thin satin fabric of her bra, as she leans in and kisses her.

The kiss is harder than it was before, but tastes just as sweet—and given the way Mal moans against her mouth, she agrees with that sentiment.

This goes on for awhile, teetering just on the edge of doing something that couldn't be easily covered up. They both want to go farther and keep teasing each other with the possibility, but just as it seems like one of them will finally do it, they pull back and switch gears. They laugh between kisses and touches, enjoying the little game they're playing—and then, when Regina hears the latch on the back gate open, she sits up and pulls away.

Mal frowns and sits up, too, quickly buttoning up and untangling themselves from each other.

But their disappointment is short-lived.

Robin peeks through the back window, covered in snow and grinning goofily. He motions for them to come out, and when Regina looks through the window as she's pulling on her coat, she can see her sons grinning proudly as they stand beside a burlap-wrapped tree.

"Look!" Roland yells out as soon as the back door opens. "We did it! We got a tree!"

"Yeah! It was so fun, Mom!"

Regina grins, arching her brow as she looks to Robin. "I… stand corrected then."

Robin beams. "Indeed you do."

"Why don't you two go and get out of those wet clothes and Mal and I will help Dad get the tree into the house," Regina suggests, momentarily turning back to the boys. "Hang everything on the landing!"

The boys hurry inside and through the window she can see Henry instructing Roland where to hang his coat and gloves—and by the time she turns back to Robin, Mal has joined them by the tree.

"We weren't gone too long, were we?" Regina and Mal exchange a look—they have no idea, and upon realizing that Robin laughs out. "So, it's safe to assume that you two found a way to entertain yourselves while we were gone?"

"You could say that," Mal tells him, nodding as her eyes slide to Regina.

"Perhaps once the tree's up and the boys are in bed, you two could tell me about it."

"I think we're both still worked up enough to give you a little reenactment," Regina says as a sly grin pulls onto her lips. "I'm not sure we could quite call it an encore considering neither of us…well, _finished._ "

"No," Mal agrees, "But it was fun."

Robin grins as he watches the look she and Mal exchange—and then, a moment later, they're untying the tree and lugging it into the house.

The boys and Robin go upstairs and change, while she and Mal drag out the boxes of ornaments and lights. They decide to skip the popcorn-stringing, but lay some paper out on the coffee table. Mal finds some paint in festive colors while Regina pours some of the bead and buttons into little bowls—and just as they're opening up the boxes to start untangling the lights, the oven timer dings.

"My pot roast is ready," Mal sighs, looking to the kitchen and frowning slightly, likely thinking of the meal that will be forgotten.

"We'll eat in here," Regina decides.

Mal's brow arches as Regina gets up and goes to the kitchen, pulling the Dutch oven out with a pair of mitts. She grabs a trivet and carefully carries everything into the living room, setting it down, and miraculously not spilling anything. Mal follows behind her with some bowls and spoons. Robin makes it down before the boys and tosses an extra log onto the fire, then double checks the tree stand as the boys bound down the stairs.

Robin helps himself to some pot roast and sits back, watching as the boys untangled the lights and wind them around the tree, and when it seems the boys have a handle on the decorating, she and Mal do the same.

Regina flops down beside Robin, grinning as his arm stretches around her shoulders. She reaches for the blanket and pulls it over their laps. Mal sits down and Regina grins as Robin's arm stretches around her waist, hidden by the blanket and a soft grin tugs on to her lips as she looks over at him.

"Can I put on a Christmas record?" Henry asks as he and Roland finish the lights.

"Sure," Regina says, nodding as she points to the pot roast. "But only if you take a break for dinner."

Roland's eyes widen as he lifts the lid of the Dutch oven. "I love pot roast! This night is _the best!_ "

"Since when are you this fond of pot roast?" Robin asks, looking at Regina who only shrugs. "I distinctly remember a tantrum—"

"That was a long time ago," Roland says, lifting his chin indignantly.

"That was less than a year ago."

"That's a long time in Roland's world," Henry sighs. "Everything lasts an eternity with him."

"Since Mal started making it," Roland says simply and he scoops out a hearty helping, ignoring his brother's comment. "I didn't know I liked a lot of things until Mal started making them."

Regina feels her chest warm as a smile stretches across her lips, and when she looks to Mal, she's practically beaming—this really did turn out to be a wonderful night.

* * *

 _It was the first cool day of August—a sure indication that fall was on the way._

 _Robin and Henry had a day planned together—the morning at Robin's office and then a movie that only they wanted to see in the afternoon—and so, she, Regina and Roland were left at home to their own devices._

 _For months, she'd been looking at pictures of gardens in magazines, drooling over pretty tulips and bright sunflowers. She sketched out what a garden would look like—sections for herbs, sections for flowers, and sections for fruits and vegetables—and she made lists of the seeds she'd buy as soon as she saw the first hints of spring._

 _Then, it occurred to her, there were lots of things she could grow during the fall._

 _Roland had actually given her the idea, suggesting it'd be fun to have a pumpkin patch in the backyard—and from that suggestion, she packed him up into the car and they drove into town, spending an afternoon picking out seeds at the garden shop. They chose pumpkins of course, and a few different kinds of squash; and then, they loaded up on packets of seeds for kale and lettuce, spinach and radishes, and just for Roland, some carrots. It wasn't quite the garden she'd envisioned, but it would satisfy the desire for now._

 _She'd never had a garden. As a little girl she used to help with the one at her parents' estate and then later, she helped with the small garden behind Granny's diner; but neither had been hers._

 _Really, when she thought of it, not much had ever been hers._

 _Not until now._

 _Mal smiles as she looks through the kitchen window, watching as Regina pulls Roland onto her lap. Their eyes narrow and their noses scrunch up, and they both look so confused examining the little cups of seeds and bags of bulbs she'd set out earlier that day. Roland looks up at Regina and asks her something, and her brow only furrows deeper in response as her shoulders shrug._

" _How do you know which is which?" Roland asks, as she steps out onto the sunny back porch. "They're all out of the packages and stuff."_

" _Well, they all have different shapes and colors," Mal explains, grinning as Roland nods, but Regina's head tips to the side. "Like the pumpkin seeds are white and sort of oval-shaped."_

" _They look like tear drops," Roland murmurs, looking down at them._

" _I guess they do," Mal says, laughing as he points to another little bowl. "But they look very different from the little round, brown radish seeds.'_

" _Ohh—"_

" _But what about those?" Regina asks, pointing to a bowl of squash seeds. "They look just like the pumpkin seeds."_

" _They're a little flatter, but—" She stops, laughing as Regina's brow arches. "Well, they are—"_

" _But...?"_

 _Mal smirks and rolls her eyes. "I enjoy a little mystery here and there." Then, she looks to Roland offering him a quick little wink. "Who knows what'll grow? Pumpkins? Spaghetti squash? Winter squash?"_

 _Regina laughs and Roland's eyes widen. "Spaghetti is a vegetable!?"_

" _They just call it that because when you cook a spaghetti squash and then peel out the insides, it looks like they're noodles."_

 _Roland looks between them. "Is it gross? It sounds gross."_

" _I've never had it," Regina admits. "It… seems complicated."_

 _Mal's brow arches, but it's Roland who speaks. "Mom, it's a vegetable. How is that complicated?"_

 _Regina bristles, rolling her eyes as she lifts Roland from her lap and sets him down on his feet. "So… what do we do with all of this?"_

" _Plant it."_

" _I know that," she sighs. "Just… where?" Mal grins and watches as the realization that this will not be a quick and simple project settles in her eyes. "Oh, no. Mal, what—"_

" _I've already got the potting soil and—"_

" _Do we have to make the beds, though?"_

" _Regina, we're talking about some boards and nails that we'll form into rectangles. It's not exactly—"_

" _Is it called a bed because that's where the plants sleep?" Roland asks, interrupting as he looks between them._

 _For a moment, neither she nor Regina says anything. They just stare at him—and then, in unison, they both nod and offer a resounding "yes" that seems to satisfy him._

 _They all go to the shed and Mal builds the beds. One by one they move them to a sunny spot along the back fence, and then, the fun comes—filling them with dirt. They haul out the bags and she and Regina pour while Roland pats it down with his hands._

 _Regina isn't much help, but she follows directions well, and while they plant the seeds and bulbs, Roland plays in the leftover dirt, making 'a volcano that melts after a hurricane.' They spend the afternoon this way—her planting and Regina doing what she can to help while Roland plays—and the whole time, all she can think of is how serene all of this is, like this very moment could be a photograph in a magazine._

 _Well, almost._

" _Can I go see if Auggie can play?"_

 _Regina blinks. "Who?_

" _August," Roland says as if his mother should know this information. "He sits two desks behind me and lives down the street." Regina's brows arch. "He's Violet's little brother."_

" _Violet?"_

" _Henry likes her," Roland says, a satisfied smirk pulling onto his lips. "I'm not supposed to tell you that, though," he adds, his smirk fading. "They live around the block."_

" _Oh, I don't know if dropping in unannounced—"_

" _I'll take my bike."_

" _That… doesn't solve the problem," Regina tells him, her shoulders squaring a little as she looks to Mal. "I'm just… not sure you should drop in without permission."_

" _They're home," Roland says. "They have a Mal, too." At that, Mal's eyes widen and Regina's head tips to the side. "Well, not exactly a Mal," he clarifies in a way that's not actually helpful. "One of their aunts lives with them. Their dad owns the grocery shop in town and—"_

" _I know them," Mal says, grinning as she looks to Regina. "They have the best fresh-baked bread. They always save me a loaf."_

 _Regina considers for a moment, trying to remember. In college, she must have gone there a thousand times and the only face she can conjure is the old man at the deli counter—who always added a little extra meat and cheese to her order. "So, that'd be Marco's son?"_

 _Mal nods. "He's the spitting-image of him. They share a name, too, but he goes by Mark.'_

" _Ah—"_

" _His wife's name is Cleo."_

" _That's an interesting name."_

 _Mal grins, nodding. "Her father teaches ancient history at the university. He named her after—"_

" _Cleopatra," Regina laughs. "Oh, that poor thing."_

" _I don't know," Mal says, shrugging. "Her namesake is such a powerful figure—a force to be reckoned with. It could've been far worse for her."_

" _But an ancient history professor naming is kid—"_

" _I know, it's cliché," Mal admits. "They're nice people, though." She looks to Roland, holding her breath as she offers him a wink. "I doubt Livia—Mark's sister—would mind Roland stopping over to see if the kids want to play for a bit."_

 _Roland smiles at her, offering a silent 'thank you' as Regina considers, then she watches as his face lights up as Regina nods. "Okay, but if they're not home you need to come right back, okay? I don't want you going to play at the park alone or—"_

" _I know, I know," Roand says, sighing as he scrambles to his feet. "I promise!'_

 _He leans in and gives his mother a hug—and then, to her surprise, Roland throws his arms around her neck, squeezing his tightly as her thanks her for helping. Her heart flutters as she nods and Roland pulls back, scurrying off to find his bike in the garage._

 _She turns to Regina with wide eyes—and Regina laughs, reaching out and taking her hand._

" _Another family has 'a Mal,'" she tells her, cocking an eyebrow as if she's won an argument or something._

" _Well, not quite."_

" _Well, no, not quite," she says easily. "But I seem to remember you being quite worried what people would think once they realized that you were living with us, that you were part of the family—"_

 _Mal's eyes roll. "That's not exactly what it was that I was worried about, but… I see your point… I suppose."_

" _I'll take it," Regina laughs. "It's progress," she adds, her smile turning coy. "But, if you don't mind, I'm going to refrain from thinking of you in any way that's sisterly."_

" _I don't mind that at all," Mal says, chuckling softly through a grimace. "I prefer it actually. I realize our arrangement isn't the most traditional one, but there are some limits I don't want anyone thinking that we're pushing."_

" _That's fair and, from the outside looking in, our situation appears very normal."_

" _That's a stretch."_

" _Is it?" Regina grins, looking pointedly at her in that self-satisfied way that she does when she knows that she's right, or better yet, when she's able to prove someone else wrong. "It wouldn't be the end of the world, you know."_

 _Mal bristles, remembering how people would sometimes stare at her as she entered a room, how people would talk about what they thought was happening, how they assumed she didn't hear it. "I… know. I just… am tired of being the thing everyone gossips about." Reigna frowns, reaching out and rubbing the back of her hand over her arm, and so she tries to put on a brave face, not wanting to ruin what's been a perfectly lovely afternoon. "And, if I am remembering correctly, part of my concern was in regard to not scarring your children so terribly that my entire inheritance goes toward paying for the therapy they'll need until they're old and gray."_

" _My children adore you."_

 _Mal grins. "Roland seems to like me."_

" _Henry does, too, he's just quieter about things like that."_

" _Or more receptive."_

 _Regina frowns. "They are going to find out, you know."_

" _It's inevitable, I realize, but—" Her voice halts, if it were up to her, the nature of her relationship with Robin and Regina would stay hidden forever. She was more than content for everyone to assume she was just a friend helping out with the kids, more than content to have a place where she felt safe and where she was surrounded by people who didn't look at her with eyes full of disdain. But at the same time, she can only imagine the regret they feel lying to their children and she knows better than most how things can manifest over time, and she doesn't want to be the reason Henry and Roland feel their parents betrayed them. So, she bites down her lip and puts on a smile. "Just… give me a little longer to win them over with my charming personality."_

 _Regina grins. She sees right through her, but nonetheless, she nods. "So, what, til, like the end of the week?"_

" _I'm good. I'm not that good," she replies, drawing in a breath. "Though, since you brought up next week, I… I was wondering if you'd mind if I took Henry on a little road trip?" Her voice piques at the end and she holds the breath she'd drawn in as she waits—she's been thinking about this for some time now, but has been hesitant to ask, hesitant to broach the subject._

" _Of course not."_

 _Her head tips at the easy answer. "Do you want to know where I'm taking him?"_

 _Regina's eyes narrow, but she smiles. "I am curious."_

 _Mal feels herself brighten, glad for the shift away from awkward things she'd rather not deal with and onto something she feels more comfortable with, something she can control. "I saw an ad in the newspaper the other day for an old camera. It's at a shop about an hour south of here, so it'd be quite a hike to go and get it, but it'd be so worth it. It takes moving pictures and—"_

" _Moving picture, like… movies?"_

 _Mal nods, feeling her excitement building. "Kind of. This one doesn't have sound though. But it takes Kodachrome film, so everything's in color and—" She stops, her cheeks flushing. "I'm getting ahead of myself."_

" _I like when you get excited about photography. It's adorable."_

 _Mal grins. "I'm just thinking I'd be able to get a collection of shots—all from the same moment."_

" _Okay, I can see the appeal in that."_

" _Like I said, I want to experiment with it."_

" _Well, I think you absolutely should," Regina says. "Is there a reason you want to take Henry? I should warn you, he's going to curl up in the passenger seat with a book and ignore you the whole way… or, well, at least that's what he does with me and Robin. He might be different with you."_

 _Biting down on her lip, she nods. "Well, that's exactly it. The man whose selling the camera has an antique book shop."_

" _Ohh—"_

" _He sells other things, too—collectables. Cameras, obviously, but bookends and pen sets, that sort of thing. I thought Henry might like it."_

 _Regina grins. "I think Henry might love it. You'll have to drag him out of there!"_

" _Mm, I'm not sure I'm the one to do it. I'll be just as taken by everything as him, I'm sure."_

 _Her heart flutters a bit. It's premature, surely, but the thought of spending a day with Robin and Regina's first born, makes her both nervous and excited. She wants to know him better and she prays that he'll warm to her, that he'll like her—and what better way to do that than a mutual interest and carte blanche access to whatever he wanted._

" _I sort of feel like I'm buying his affection."_

" _That's nonsense," Regina says, waving her hand dismissively. "Your heart is in the right place."_

" _Still—"_

" _I know it's tempting to feel guilty about something like that, but trust me, that's not how it's coming across." She sighs, shaking her head. "I was the only mom who worked. Of all the friends Henry and Roland had in the old neighborhood, not one of them had a working mom and I felt terrible about that. I couldn't do afternoon trips to the beach or make cookies for their classes—not that anyone would've wanted them—and so I'd compensate. They got a treat when we went shopping for new socks or I'd pick up store-bought donuts instead. I wasn't trying to spoil them or show anyone up because I could afford three dozen fresh-baked donuts. It… was just what I could do. It wasn't better or worse than what any other parent could do, and it was different for everyone. You're being generous. That's not buying affection or replacing—."_

" _But I'm not a working mom—" Regina's eyes press closed and she can see the frustration mounting in her face, and it makes her laugh. "Okay, fine. Point taken."_

" _Is it really?"_

 _She nods. "I'm just… overthinking everything because I want it to go well."_

" _It will. He's going to love it." Biting down on her lip, she takes a breath, accepting Regina's confidence at face value. "So, have you talked to Granny about the apartment?"_

" _I have—"_

" _And?"_

" _I get the keys next week after she's cleaned it up. She wants to put some fresh paint on the walls, that sort of thing." Her stomach flutters as she looks to Regina. "I told her she didn't have to do all that, but she insisted. I'm paid up through the year, and if it works out… I'll pay for the next five."_

" _Oh my god, Mal! That's amazing! Why didn't you say something? We could've celebrated!"_

" _I… just wanted to be sure."_

 _Her brow arches skeptically. "Of all people, you thought Granny was going to back out on your deal?"_

" _No," she admits, a grin tugging up at the corner of her mouth. "I just… I'm not used to good things happening, especially not so many good things all at once. I'm not used to… planning ahead, either."_

 _Regina's lips press together and for a moment, she doesn't say or do anything—and then, just as Mal starts to feel the need to explain, Regina pushes herself forward. She takes her face in her hands, and Mal topples back in the dirt. Mal laughs into the kiss, her arms wrapping loosely around Regina—and for just this moment, she lets herself enjoy it, not thinking about what would happen if someone walked into the yard or a neighbor could see over the privacy fence from a second story window. Instead, she just kisses her and appreciates that she can._

* * *

Roland crosses his arms and pouts as he sits down on the bottom stair. "It's not fair," he whines. "We should get to go, too."

Henry huffs and falls back onto the couch. "Stop complaining about _everything_ ," he mutters in the direction of his brother.

"I'm not complaining!"

"Yes you are, and it's _annoying_."

"Dad!" Roland's eyes widen as he looks to his father. "He said I was annoying!"

"Because you _are_ ," Henry says, looking pointedly back to him. "You agree. I can tell."

Robin sighs.

He loves his sons—really, truly, he does—but he's been with them for the entirety of the five days without much of a break and they were… tiring, constantly bickering and on each other's nerves, cooped up and going stir crazy because of an ice storm.

At his suggestion earlier that week, Regina and Mal had taken what was supposed to be a quick trip to New York to do some shopping. It'd been an expensive splurge between the plane tickets and a five-star hotel room in the city for the weekend, but he'd insisted, telling them that it was his Christmas gift to them.

They'd spent their time in the city Christmas shopping and going to shows, eating out at expensive restaurants and meandering around places like Times Square and Central Park. Though it wasn't necessary, they called twice daily. The first call Regina made to the boys just after Robin fed them dinner. She'd spend an hour or so talking to them both, listening as they tried to fit in every single detail—important or not—about their days, and then, right around the time they started to pry out of her what Christmas gifts she'd purchased for them on her trip, she told them good night and ended the call. After that, he took them through their bedtime routine, making them shower and brush their teeth before getting into clean pajamas and going to bed. Then, as he was getting into bed, the phone rang again with Regina and Mal together on the line.

Their conversations always started off perfectly innocent as they told him about their days—shopping for dresses for Ruby's party, Christmas gifts they'd bought for the boys, the play they'd seen in the evening—but then, no matter what, the conversation inevitably took a naughty turn. He'd stay on the line, listening as they pleasured each other, the recipient explaining what was happening to her as he held his cock in his hand, closing his eyes as he stroked himself, picturing them together.

They'd been set to return Sunday evening when a storm hit, keeping them in New York for two additional days. Once it lifted there, it moved north and within hours of it hitting, Roland and Henry were practically climbing the walls. He'd done his best to entertain them. He'd made a big pot of chili and dragged out all the gifts that were left to wrap—a couple of things they'd gotten for Regina, two very sweet holiday-themed picture frames they'd bought at their schools Santa Shop for Mal, things for Granny and Ruby, and a few small gifts for neighbors who'd been helpful and welcoming when they first moved in. He'd put on a Christmas record and let them eat in the living room—something they were never allowed to do when their mother was present—and they'd spent a lazy day in their pajamas. For a time, it worked to entertain them, but once the presents were wrapped and labeled beneath the tree, their boredom set in again and it wasn't long after that they were at each other's throats.

The relief that washed over him when Regina and Mal walked in was palpable, and it took everything in him not to push the boys off on them under the guise of needing to salt the sidewalks and driveway again. But, of course, they'd come in late that evening and the boys were ready for bed and he was exhausted. So, instead, they'd all fallen into bed with a jazz record playing softly, serenading them as they fell asleep.

That morning, they'd let him sleep in. Mal made a big breakfast and the boys went outside and played in the snow (it was more ice than snow, but they spent the late morning stomping through it). The three of them sat together on the couch trading lazy kisses as the boys played and after lunch, the girls went upstairs to start getting ready… and again, he was left with his sons who scoffed at his every suggestion of things they could do to entertain themselves.

"I don't see why we can't go," Roland says again. "It's not fair. We never get to go to stuff like this."

"That's because it's a party for adults," Robin explains. "There won't be other kids there."

"Yeah," Henry says, looking to his brother. "That's why you can't go."

Roland blinks. "It's not like you get to go either."

"Because I have to watch you."

Robin can't help but roll his eyes. Only once has Henry ever been left in charge of Roland—and it was for a grand total of fifteen minutes while during their move that summer. "Actually, Anna is coming to stay for the night with you."

Henry brightens a little. It's no secret that he has a crush on Anna Arendelle, the sixteen-year-old girl who lives down the street and runs a lucrative babysitting business in the neighborhood. They've never needed her to watch the boys, but every family on the block swears she's the best—and their kids seem to agree.

But unlike Henry, Roland doesn't seem to care about the babysitter. "So, Ruby's party is a _slumber party_!? That's even worse! I _love_ slumber parties."

"No, it's… it's not a slumber party," Robin says slowly. "We'll just be out late, and lately, with the weather…" His voice trails off when Roland turns away, dramatically crossing his arms.

"When is she going to be here?" Henry asks.

"Soon," he tells him, a grin pulling onto his lips. "Your mom and Mal should be ready… at any minute."

Henry giggles. "I bet Anna will be here first. They always take _forever_." Laughing softly, Robin nods. It's very true, they do take forever to get ready. "Why is that?" Henry asks, innocently and genuinely curious. "You were ready in, like… five minutes."

"It's… easier for men," Robin explains. "Women have to do their hair and makeup and… sometimes their clothes are really complicated." He chuckles softly to himself, thinking there are probably _other_ things that have delayed them. The shower definitely only turned on and off once and it ran for an unusually long time. He clears his throat, shifting his thoughts to more appropriate things. "Your mom has this one dress that has about forty teeny-tiny buttons down the back."

Henry blinks. "That's a lot."

"And my fingers nearly bled trying to do it up for her."

Henry grimaces. "I'm glad I'm a guy. Ties are bad enough, and I only have to wear those two or three times a year."

Robin laughs and shakes his head, but before he can respond, the doorbell rings and a little smirk edges onto Henry's lips. He gets up to let Anna in and Henry turns beat red when she offers him a little wave and says hello. Robin takes her into the kitchen, showing her where they keep the snacks—for her, not the kids—and he opens the oven, pointing to a big pot roast and vegetables she and the boys can have for dinner. He goes through their nighttime routine and shows her the cabinet where they keep board games and crafts, then they loop back to the living room where Henry's still red-cheeked and Roland's still pouting.

"There's a list of numbers on the fridge—Granny's diner where the party will be taking place, Regina's father in case one of the boys gets sick or won't sleep and you can't reach us, two neighbors in case you need anything or get locked out or… something...," he explains, his voice trailing off as he loses his train of thought and, looks to the stairs as Regina and Mal come down. His lips part as he takes them in.

"So, what do you think?" Regina asks, looking between him and the boys, twirling and letting her full skirt fan out. "How do we look?"

Regina's dress is a bright crimson silk. It's simple in style—sleeveless with a stiff collar and a square neckline that goes straight across her bust, leaving just a hint of cleavage visible. The skirt bells out, its hem sitting at the top of her knee, and the fabric bunched on her right side to accommodate a stiff bow that sits just above her hip. She's wearing black silky stockings and when she spun, he could see that they were thigh-highs that were held up by a black lace garter embellished with two tiny red bows. Her shoes are black strappy pumps that fasten at the side of her ankle. They're a simple pair that she's worn a hundred times because she thinks they make her legs look longer, and while he's not sure about that, he will admit her legs look fucking fantastic in these shoes. Her short hair is pulled half back and curled, a red pin holding it up.

Mal's dress is green silk with a black lace overlay. Like Regina's dress, Mal's dress is sleeveless. The green silk beneath the black lace is cut in a heart shape, making her bust look bigger than it is—something she's endlessly trying to do—and then the lace goes up to neck, her creamy skin contrasting the black lace. The dress cinches at her waist, making the bodice tight before fanning out into a bell shaped skirt. It ends an inch or so above her knee—shorter than Regina's, probably because of her height—and she's wearing skin-toned nylons and a pair of green patent leather pumps. Her hair is down and curled at the ends, falling over her shoulders and hiding the dress' low back.

They look beautiful—absolutely stunning and he can't take his eyes off of them.

"You guys all match," Henry says, giggling softly and bringing him out of his trance-like state. "Mom's in red and black and Mal's in green black, and you have a red and green tie and are wearing a black suit!"

Roland's brow crumples. "That's 'cuz there are only two Chrismtas colors—red and green."

At that, Anna laughs—and Robin offers her a sheepish little grin, glad someone finds his grumpy kid amusing.

Regina goes to him, tickling his sides and kissing his check, giving him Eskimo kisses until he's giggling. She grabs both sides of his face and kisses him as she tells him that she loves him and that he needs to be good for Anna, then moves on to Henry as he goes to Roland. He kisses him whispers to him that he'll need to keep an eye on Henry also so he doesn't flirt too much with Anna—and that earns a smirk and a nod as he goes to Henry, telling him goodnight. Henry grins goodnaturedly as Robin kisses his forehead quickly—and then, he turns back to Regina and Mal who are getting on their coats.

Regina hands him his and he slips it on quickly as Regina grabs a bag of presents. He offers her his arm and grins as she slides her hand through his arm as he looks to Mal, offering her his other arm. Mal hesitates, biting down on her lip as she looks to him. Regina nods and he holds his arm out a bit stiffer as if to insist, and then as she draws in a breath, the boys giggle and her arm slides through his.

They again say goodbye to the boys, reminding them once more to be good as they step out on the porch—and as soon as they're out, Robin kisses them each on the cheek, very much looking forward to an evening that'll be (mostly) without pretense.

* * *

 _Regina pulls up into the driveway, smiling at the house._

 _It's all decked out for Halloween._

 _It has been for weeks. There's a black-painted grapevine wreath on the door covered in pulled apart cotton and little plastic spiders, skulls lining the porch railings and a mummy sitting on the porch swing. The window is decorated with construction paper cutouts of skeletons, pumpkins and ghosts, and a black and orange paper chain that creates a sort of valance, compliments of the boys. Compliments of Mal are the orange Christmas lights that line the window. On the lawn are wooden grave stones and bones that peek up from the grass, and lining the porch steps are no less than six jack-o-lanterns, carved with funny and scary faces. But she's pretty certain that the witch's hat sitting atop the mailbox and the ghost dangling from the porch light are new additions._

 _Or so she thinks they are, it's possible that she just missed them before._

 _Grabbing her bag, she heads into the house, grinning as soon as she hears_ Graveyard Rock _playing on the record player in the family room. She follows the sound, her grin brightening at the sight of Mal crouched down in front of Roland, forming hobbit ears from costume wax while Robin glues cotton to the inside of Henry's pipe, the finishing touch on his costume._

 _Mal has always been into Halloween. When they were together before she always decked out their apartment and dragged a lawn chair out front of Granny's diner to hand out candy to kids as they walked by on their way to the neighboring subdivisions. She'd put on some cat ears or a witch's hat, but never really dressed up_ — _and that always seemed a little odd, given how much she enjoyed the festivities of the holiday. She claimed she was just too old for it_ — _and really, at twenty-something, maybe she had a point._

 _But as a child, she never was allowed to dress up. It simply wasn't something that was done in her family. She'd never really explained why that was, but she didn't seem bothered by it; she just accepted it. That was how she was back then, easy going and a bit aloof, never wanting to draw attention to things that made her sad or unusual…_

 _This year, though, things were different._

 _In mid-September, Henry and Roland read_ Lord of the Rings. _Henry enjoyed it and moved onto another book, but Roland took it to an extreme, suddenly obsessed with hobbits and magical lands. And Mal fed into it. She took him to the Halloween shop that opened up around the corner for Granny's diner and every weekend they spent at thrift stores, putting together the perfect hobbit outfit for Halloween. He had bright yellow corduroy pants that Mal hemmed so they came up just over his ankles and a cheaply made polyester green vest they'd found at the Halloween store. Mal traded out the buttons for nice brassy ones and added gold piping around seams. He had a long satin jacket in a burgundy shade that Mal cut down from a man's sized and again, from the Halloween shop, they found a dark green cape that Mal trimmed in the same gold piping. They'd added buckles to a pair of old shoes, found glue-on sideburns to put down his cheeks, a wooden walking stick that was taller than Roland and a white flowy pirate-like shirt to complete the outfit. Then, of course, was the Halloween makeup..._

 _On those trips, Henry always tagged along, collecting things for his own costume_ — _lots of tweed pieces to make a Sir Arthur Conan Doyle costume, which he was quick to clarify was not a Sherlock Holmes costume. He wore a suit_ — _a brown three-piece one_ — _that Mal had altered from a man's size down to one that would fit a ten-year old boy. He found a pocket watch and a cap, just like the ones Doyle wore in the photograph on the dust jacket of his (current) favorite book. At the Halloween store, he'd found some gold lensless glasses and a fake mustache that curled up at the ends. The finishing touch was a tie, made from the leftover scrap fabric of Roland's hobbit coat._

" _Oh, look," Robin says, grinning up at her. "Wonder Woman's here."_

 _Roland giggles. "Are you going to put on your costume now, Mama?"_

 _She sighs. "Only if Daddy and Mal are putting on theirs."_

" _They have to," Roland says. "It's Halloween!'_

" _I know, I know," she murmurs. "But_ —"

" _Why don't you go up and change first," Robin suggests. "We'll finish up here."_

 _Regina's eyes narrow. "Somehow, I have a feeling I'm the only one whose going to be walking around in tights tonight...Superman."_

 _Robin shrugs his eyebrows and Mal laughs. "You are wearing your costumes, though, right?" Henry asks, looking between them. "They're so cool… even if Dad hates his."_

 _Regina laughs as Robin's face scrunches. "I don't hate it. I just… don't enjoy the tights." He sighs as he looks between them all. "They're just… very, um… tight."_

 _Henry laughs. "I think that's why they're called tights."_

 _Regina laughs, too. "You guys are sure you don't need anything?" Both boys look at her like she's crazy_ — _they both know her well enough to know that she's not terribly crafty and just as she doesn't cook, she doesn't sew. "Well, if you need me, I'll… be upstairs, morphing into a superhero."_

 _Leaving them, she goes upstairs and pulls the Wonder Woman costume from the closet, shaking her head at it. It's been years since she wore a costume, but Henry and Roland insisted they all dress up. Initially, Mal hadn't anticipated going, instead figuring she'd be handing out candy to the neighborhood kids as Robin and Regina took their sons trick-or-treating; but Roland seemed hurt at the thought of her staying back because, after all, she was part of the family now._

 _At that, she and Robin couldn't say no, and they'd started to brainstorm costume ideas, thinking it might be fun to go as some sort of set of something. She initially suggested the Three Blind Mice, which Robin vetoed and Mal suggested the Three Musketeers, which Robin also vetoed on the account of not wanting to wear tights. They'd settled on the three witches from MacBeth, but both Henry and Roland claimed it was too boring, and suggested the DC Comics characters instead. So, Robin would be Superman, she would be Wonder Woman, and Mal's costume would be a feminine take on Batman._

 _They'd gone to the Halloween shop and picked up some cheap costumes that Mal could tweak a bit, and Robin was sure to grab an extra pair of blue tights for "extra protection."_

 _Mal found him some red rain boots and made him a thicker pair of red underwear to go over his tights_ — _something he was very grateful for and added a red cape with fabric from the craft store. Similarly, Regina's costume was mostly made from the store-bought costume with slight alterations. The skirt was shortened up so it didn't come down over her knees and, like Robin, she found some red rain boots to complete the outfit. They added a lasso and added some red rhinestones to her headpiece and wrist cuffs. Admittedly, she didn't hate the costume; in fact, as she looked at herself in the mirror, she looked kind of sexy in it._

 _Mal's costume, however, took a bit more creativity. It was a cross between a man's Batman costume and a witch costume. She'd cut off the sleeves and altered the top so that it was more form-fitted, the Batman logo spread across her chest, and she'd used the witch's skirt for the bottom, cutting it so it had a sort of jagged, scalloped edge that made it look like bat wings. From the craft store, she'd bought some yellow fabric to create a belt and wrist cuffs and some black fabric for a cape, again cut like the bottom of her skirt and a mask that covered half her face. She connected the cape and her cuffs with yellow fabric, then to complete the look_ — _and probably tease both her and Robin_ — _she wore a pair of back leather stilettos._

 _She laughs as she thinks of it. Poor Robin in his tights..._

 _Finally, the sky turns dark and the streetlights flicker on, indicating that it's now time to trick-or-treat._

 _As they're heading out the door, Mal grabs her camera, making Robin, Regina and the boys pause for a quick shot—then, to everyone's surprise, Henry jumps forward and reaches for the camera, telling them he wants a picture of the superheroes. Mal hesitates, but Regina reaches for her, pushing her to the opposite side of Robin who stretches his arms around them both as their hands rest of their hips_ — _a pose Roland swears could be the cover of a comic book. Henry snaps a few pictures, then sets the camera on the mantle, before dragging Roland back into the frame, both boys smiling just in time to get a snapshot of all five of them._

 _Then, they're on their way._

 _Henry leads the way with the pre-planned route that he assured Roland would lead them to more houses and the ones that gave out the best candy_ — _and about halfway through, it seems that Henry was correct and the boys are handing off full pillowcases to Robin in exchange for empty ones._

" _They're making a killing," Mal says, laughing as they run up to the next house, following a throng of children._

 _Robin slings both bags over one shoulder and fishes for Regina's hand. "I can't wait to break into it."_

 _Regina laughs as her fingers curl down between his. "It's always a race to see which of my boys will get a stomachache first. I'll have you know that Robin is the reigning champion."_

" _Oh, no," Mal laughs, looking to him. "Poor thing."_

" _I'm only saving us dentist bills," he explains, tipping up his chin a bit haughtily, and making them both laugh again. "Think of all the cavities I've saved them from."_

 _Regina's eyes roll as she looks to Mal. "At least my children have self-control."_

 _Mal grins as her eyes shift to Henry and Roland, brandishing full-sized candy bars as they exchange excited smiles, then drop them back into their bags and continue to the next house. They all follow along on the crowded sidewalk, practically walking shoulder to shoulder, and it occurs to her that no one would notice if she took Mal's hand._

 _Mal gasps a little and Robin looks over at them, then grins as Regina lifts their entwined hands. They don't say anything about it, they just continue on… and it feels so good to be out and about, not hiding anything._

 _As they near a corner, the boys run around it, excitedly approaching a big Victorian style house that Henry swears his friend claims gives out big boxes of Atomic Fireballs every year._

 _Somehow, they get separated from the gaggle of parents as they'd rounded the corner, and suddenly, they're almost alone._

 _Robin fans out his cape and spins in front of them, quickly kissing each of them before twirling away and leading them around the corner to join the rest._

 _They continue on until they find themselves back on their own street, the boys practically dragging their heavy, candy-filled bags._

 _Once they get inside, the boys sort out their candy, trading things they don't like for things they do, as they sip on apple cider and listen to a Halloween program on the radio. She, Robin, and Mal all go upstairs and change out of their costumes, all agreeing that though it was a bit silly to dress up for a couple of hours, it was fun and the boys got a kick out of it._

 _They all change into pajamas and head back down stairs, ready to settle in for the night with a board game or maybe another show. But when they find the boys, they're passed out on a mound of candy, their cider only half drunk._

 _Robin lifts them both and Regina follows beside him, Mal dismissing herself to the kitchen to make a pot of spiced wine. Once they're upstairs, Regina takes Henry_ — _who is absolutely the easier child tonight_ — _changing him from his costume and into a pair of flannel pajamas. She carefully pulls off his mustache and washes off the glue with warm water, combing her fingers through the front of his hair as she tucks him into bed and kisses his cheek._

 _Through the open bathroom door, she can see Robin, struggling with Roland's waxy ears. She laughs quietly and flicks on the nightlight Henry insists he doesn't want or ever use, and joins Robin in Roland's room, cleaning him up_

" _I could drop," Robin confesses as they head down the stairs. "I am absolutely beat."_

" _Me too," Regina sighs, her head falling to Robin's shoulder as his arm forms around her waist. "I can't wait to get into bed."_

" _Maybe we should skip the wine and_ —"

" _We still have to clean up. Otherwise, Henry and Roland will have twelve candy bars for breakfast and you and I will spend all of tomorrow cleaning puke off of the carpet." Robin grimaces, chuckling softly as he squeezes her a little closer as they reach the bottom of the stairs and round the bannister toward the kitchen. "Besides, there's a Rocky Road bar that I was eyeing."_

 _Robin gasps, feigning offense. "You'd steal from your children? Wonder Woman, I'm stunned you'd behave this way!"_

" _Don't think I didn't see you snagging Tootsie Rolls and Necco Wafers from their bags earlier, Superman."_

 _Robin huffs as they enter the kitchen, finding Mal standing at the stove, stirring cinnamon, diced apples, and slices of orange into a pot of red wine. Regina breathes in the spicy, savory smell and a smile naturally draws onto her lips. The wine smells incredibly, and might just be enough to give her a second wind…_

 _She hikes herself up on the counter as Mal smiles back at her from over her shoulder before returning her attention to the wine. She's wearing short, but loose shorts and a tank top that's not at all appropriate for late fall, and when she leans up onto her toes to grab a few more cinnamon sticks for the wine, the shorts rise up over the round bottoms of her ass cheeks._

 _Regina doesn't try to hide the fact that she's gawking and neither does Robin._

 _Laughing, Regina reaches for his hand, tugging him to her. He turns so that he's in front of her and her knees part, allowing him to step in closer as her legs wrap loosely around her his hips as he leans in to kiss her. He laughs against her mouth as her hands grab at his ass._

" _You two are absolutely insatiable. I thought the plan was to have some wine and go to bed early, and now look at you, making out like a couple of teenagers."_

 _Regina breaks the kiss as Robin's lips tickle her neck. "You won't be complaining when you come and join us."_

 _Mal smirks back at her. "I'm not complaining now. You know I like a good show."_

 _Regina holds her hand out to her and she hesitates, looking back at the pot of wine on the burner behind her. "I've watched you make that often enough to know that you have to let it… do it's thing for a while…"_

" _Do it's thing?" Robin teases as he looks to her. "I think that thing is called 'simmering'."_

 _Mal laughs and Regina wiggles her fingers, still holding out her hand as her bottom lip pouts out_ — _and then, adorably, she quickly turns to the stove and sets the timer, lowering the heat before she joins them, giggling as she hoists herself up beside Regina. Mal grins and quickly, Regina pecks her lips before turning her attention back to Robin, who leans back in to kiss her as Mal's lips settle at her jaw._

 _They stay like this for awhile, all taking turns kissing one another. It's soft and sweet, unassuming and a little lazy. It's not the sort of thing that feels like it's leading somewhere, and they all enjoy it for what it is._

 _Mal pulls away a bit reluctantly as the timer on the stove begins to buzz, and once again, Regina pouts as Mal pulls away. She and Robin watch as Mal uses a ladle to fill three glass mugs, dropping extra cinnamon sticks into each mug._

 _Regina hops down from the counter as Mal hands her a mug just before handing one off to Robin._

 _They all go toward the family room where the boys mound of candy sits, all snagging a few pieces as they cuddle up on the couch. They eat their candy and sip their wine, talking lightly about favorite costumes of the evening_ — _and of course, neither she nor Mal misses the opportunity to tease Robin about the bright blue tights he bravely donned that night or how those tights caught the eye of several passersby. A bit awkwardly, he shifts the conversation to the various lawn decorations they'd seen, both making plans for next year's decor and preparing to return their own yard back to normal that coming weekend_ — _and somewhere in the midst of that, Regina dozes off, snuggled and content between them._

* * *

It starts to snow, just as they're pulling into the parking lot of Granny's diner.

The diner is aglow with colorful lights and a big tree covered in ornaments. Tinsel sits in the front window, and a traditional, seasonal message of _Happy Holidays!_ is painted on the glass (compliments of Mal and Henry). Already the diner looks a bit crowded, a few familiar faces standing out among the party guests. But most notably, they spot Belle in a red and white party dress leaning against the brick, just out of view from the window.

Mal waves first, earning an eager wave back.

When she first met Belle, she wasn't sure what to make of her.

She was a pretty girl who was smart as a whip with a good head on her shoulders and a maturity that made her seem older than she was. At first, she was certain that Belle had a crush on Robin or Regina—maybe both—and she'd fought the natural inclination to be jealous, feeling like maybe she'd been successfully replaced.

She never voiced that, though, and now she was glad. That hadn't been the case at all. Belle was more like a little sister to them both. She worked for them, she looked up to them, and she was friends with them. That was all, and when she learned about Mal's troubles, she'd been eager to help in whatever way she could. She proved herself to be bold and ambitious, a loyal fighter, and the kind of person anyone would be lucky to have in their corner. Again, something she proved when she learned for the nature of the relationship she, Robin, and Regina had.

Belle had barely batted an eye at it.

She's accepted it as if it were commonplace, never passing judgement.

Soon, she learned that just wasn't Belle's nature—and upon that realization, a friendship between them began to form. It wasn't as strong or as deep as the one Belle shared with Regina and Robin, but it was there and it was growing.

They greet Belle with a round of hugs, and she and Robin can't help but laugh when Regina squeezes her tightly, practically refusing to let the girl go as she tells her how much she's missed her and how she can't wait to catch up. She doesn't let Belle get a word in edgewise.

"Is that why you took it upon yourself to invite me to this party?" Belle asks, finally pushing out of the hug, but nonetheless grinning as her brow arches. "I sort of had the impression that _you guys_ were having the party."

"Granny and Ruby are like family. They didn't mind," Regina assures her. "Besides, the more the merrier!"

Robin grins. "They know us well enough to know that we won't invite just anyone."

"I do think there was another motive, though," Mal tells her, grinning as she nods toward Ruby, standing near the front door. "Regina wants to play matchmaker tonight"

Belle's brows arch as she follows Mal's gaze. "Ohhh…"

"You're not seeing anyone, are you?" Regina asks. "I sort of told Ruby you were single and later realized, that might not be true anymore."

"Oh my god, she's really pretty," Belle says, turning back, her cheeks flushing a bit. "And, no. I am… quite unattached. Still." Quickly, she looks back to Ruby and then back to Regina. "And she's way out of my league."

"Hey, don't sell yourself short," Robin tells her.

"And she's already told Regina she's interested. So, go in and flirt a little. See where things go." Mal grins. "Have fun."

Belle draws in a breath. "You make it sound so easy."

Regina's eyes roll as she loops her arm through Belle's and leads her inside, leaving Mal and Robin to follow.

Granny greets them all, taking their coats and letting them know that her apartment is open, too, if they want a break from the music and loud chatter. Then, almost as soon as their coats are hung up, Granny disappears into the kitchen.

Regina wastes no time introducing Belle to Ruby, and as soon as they're chatting, she slips into a booth with Robin and Mal, grinning like an idiot as she watches the girls flirt with one another.

For the most part, the room is filled with unfamiliar faces whom they assume are friends of Ruby's. The couples are diverse in a lot of ways, and others are clearly there looking for a hookup. It's a relaxed environment that feels safe, so after a few drinks, they throw caution to the wind, all dancing together and not caring who's watching—in fact, she'd venture to say that no one was watching at all.

They all sneak a few quick kisses, touching each other freely, both on and off the dance floor.

When they need a break, they mingle through the crowd, checking out the food table and refilling their drinks. Mal falls into a conversation with a pair of men whom she can only assume are a couple, and when Robin and Regina come up behind her (both clearly drunk by this point), the two men don't bat an eye as both slip their arms around her. Robin pushes a kiss to her cheek before taking her glass to fill it with more punch and Regina rests her head on her shoulder, cuddling against her in a way that would be hard to explain as merely friendly.

Eventually, they find themselves in Granny's living room, drinking and eating slices of Granny's key lime pie as they chat with Granny and watch as snow collects on the window sill.

"Hey," Ruby murmurs, poking her head into the apartment. "We're going to take off…"

Granny looks up, grinning at her granddaughter. "The party's still going on."

"I know, but I'm… I'm ready to go."

"You're okay to drive?"

Ruby nods. "Yeah. I only had a drink… about five hours ago."

Granny hesitates. "It's slippery out there, I don't know if you should—"

"I live around the block. My drive is under a minute. We'll be fine."

"Twice now you've said 'we,'" Regina says, turning to face the door—and Mal watches as an excited (and drunken) grin tugs onto Regina's lips as she sees Belle standing a bit awkwardly beside her. "Ohhhhhhh."

Ruby laughs. "Yeah, so, um… we're going to go." Leaning in, she presses a kiss to her grandmother's cheek. "I'll be by in the morning to help you clean up."

"You'd better," Granny laughs. "Otherwise I'll be doing dishes all damn day."

"It was nice meeting you," Belle says sweetly, shifting a bit uncomfortably as she looks to Granny.

"It was nice meeting you too, dear," Granny says as Ruby waves to Robin, Regina, and Mal—and then, as they disappear down the hall, Granny laughs. "Poor thing. How awkward for her having to come up here."

"I've put her in her fair share of awkward situations," Robin tells her, chuckling softly. "But, having to come up to explain to your date's grandmother that you're leaving to go and have sex—"

"I am pretending I don't know that," Granny tells him as her eyes roll and her chin tips up. "That said, she's adorable. I think they'd make a nice pair."

"They did seem to get on well," Mal adds. "Poor thing was so nervous about coming in tonight."

"I told her it'd be great," Regina says in sort of a burst—making both Robin and Mal laugh in response. "But even I didn't think it'd be as great as it's about to get."

Granny sighs and Mal feels her eyes widen. Granny has never been shy or prudish, but Ruby's always been different and she suspected that Granny still saw her as the seventeen-year old who came to visit all those summers ago when she'd been trying to select a college or career path for herself.

Sitting down, Granny looks pointedly at them. "The three of you aren't going anywhere tonight, you know that, right?"

"Oh, we're—"

Granny looks to Regina. "Don't you dare suggest any of you are fine." Regina's mouth closes and her lips press together tightly as her shoulders straighten like a little girl who's just been caught in a bold-faced lie. "Besides, even if you weren't drunk off your asses, it's still too slippery to drive all the way back to your house. That road is so curvy, you'd all land up in a ditch."

"We could walk," Robin says. "It's not far—" His voice halts as both she and Regina look to him like he's just said the stupidest thing he's ever said. "What?"

"It's spitting ice," Regina says.

"And, the apartment across the hall is… more than enough to accommodate us," Mal says, thinking of her studio that is still very much in the process of being renovated. "I'll have to clean it up a bit, but—"

"That's the best idea I've heard so far," Granny says, smirking. "I'll even close my vents...and put in some earplugs." Mal's eyes widen a bit, hating to think of all the times Granny must've heard the three of them in bed together and really, it's a wonder she can still look any of them in the eye. "I'll just tell myself it's to drown out the music downstairs."

"Oh god—"

Robin laughs and awkwardly nods, and Mal can tell exactly what he's thinking of. "Is, um… is there a place to actually lay down, though? I thought you were turning all the rooms into work spaces."

Mal nods. "The bedroom is a dark room, or… it's in the process of becoming one, but the kitchen is untouched—"

"I don't know much about kitchens, but I know that they are not for sleeping," Regina says, her brow furrowing as she realizes how unnecessary her comment was—though, it makes Granny laugh.

"I, um, I still have the couch that you guys had."

Granny nods. "Ruby kept it. Said it was comfortable, and she liked that it pulled out into a bed. It was good for company, she thought."

Regina laughs a little. "Oh, the virginal couch is still alive and kickin', huh? I guess that would make my dad happy—"

Robin's face scrunches. "Can we not talk about your dad?" Regina's eyes widen a little. "I always felt a little… icky doing things on that couch, given the fact that he got it to keep up us from doing those things."

"If it helped him sleep at night, I'd say it served its purpose," Granny says, a hearty chuckle rising out of her. "And it was a good, sturdy piece. It's really lasted." Mal laughs, but doesn't say anything, a memory suddenly popping up of one particularly rough night that couch had with the three of them on it.

And then, as Granny's brow arches her smile fades and her expression growing serious. "Well, if the couch still weirds you out, we could always call a cab."

"Then you'd have to come back for your car."

"It'd save us from making breakfast," Regina says. "And by us, I mean the two of you," she adds, looking between Robin and Mal. "I wouldn't say no to blueberry pancakes."

"And I can make 'em for you if you stay," Granny tells her. "Just call your sitter and let her know you're staying. It's already well past two in the morning, you don't want that girl walking home in a snow storm in the middle of the night, anyway."

At that point, it seems decided.

Robin calls Anna who groggily and easily agrees to stay, and then three of them retire into the apartment across the hall.

Of course, they've all been here together since she rented it and began renovating it, but never like this. Their time in the apartment centered around installing cabinets and building shelves, painting walls and tearing out the old carpet. It felt strange and a bit nostalgic to be in the apartment, getting ready to sleep.

Or… what they'd be calling sleep.

Robin loosens his tie and pulls his shirt out from his pants, then tosses the couch cushions to the floor as he pulls out the bed, finding a clean sheet. In the closet, Regina finds two pillows and Mal opens up the bottle of champagne they'd brought for her the first time they'd visited the studio after Granny had given her the keys.

They're still dressed as they climb into bed, making a joke of the fact that they don't have any glasses to drink from and how classy it is that they're sipping expensive champagne directly from the bottle.

Between drinks, they start to kiss, their hands roaming as they tug at zippers—and that's when she remembers the little surprise she and Regina had for Robin. She looks to Regina, watching as a smirk edges onto her lips as the same realization settles upon her.

Leaning in, she whispers into Regina's ear. It's not exactly what they planned, but they can make it work—and truly, she doubts, even if he didn know what awaited him back him in the extra bedroom, Robin would mind that it didn't happen as they'd planned.

Regina grins a bit slyly as they get out of bed. "We're just going to change out of these dresses," she explains.

"You know how unforgiving silk can be," Mal adds.

Robin nods, drawing in a breath as he, no doubt, catches the same glimpse of Regina's garters that she caught. Her fingers curl around Regina's and she leads her back to what was once their bedroom, flicking on the light.

"Have you looked at any of them?" Regina asks, her fingers touching to the film canisters.

"Yes," Mal admits. "Quite a few."

"I hope we got some good shots."

Mal smirks. "When you're not drunk off your ass, I'll show you. I want your opinion."

Mal's camera went with her almost everywhere she went and it was one of the first things she'd packed for the trip she and Regina took to New York City. Each night, they'd call Robin, relaying all the dirty things they were doing to each other as he no doubt pumped his cock through his fist as he pictured it—and that thought was initially what gave them the idea.

On a couple of different nights, they'd set up Mal's camera on its travel tripod, positioning it so that it was looking down at the bed. Mal set the timer, then crawled into bed with Regina. Every few minutes, the camera lens would click, reminding her of all the naughtiness that was being captured.

"Maybe we could add another roll," Mal suggests, picking up an empty canister as a grin edges onto Regina's lips. "For some variety."

Regina nods as she loads the film into the camera and comes up behind her, unzipping the back of her dress. She sets down the camera and steps out of the dress, carefully setting it over the back of the chair before unzipping Regina and also draping her dress over the chair.

On a whim, they'd bought matching lingerie before an afternoon trip to the spa.

It seemed kind of silly at the time, but they thought it might make for a nice surprise upon their homecoming—a sort of thank you to him for what had been a perfectly enjoyable and relaxing trip—and they both agreed they felt sexy in it, especially after their skin was scrubbed, exfoliated, and waxed. But then they'd been delayed and their plans changed too many times, and by the time they actually arrived back home, all they'd wanted to do is slip into a comfortable pair of pajamas and get some sleep. Nonetheless, when they'd dressed that afternoon, they put on the black lace bras, underwear and garter belts. The garters that held up their stockings matched too, with delicate little bows at the tops (Regina's, as Robin had already seen, were red while hers were green).

The room that they called Mal's room was all set up with expensive sheets and candles and some oils they'd bought at the spa. They planned on giving him a massage and riling him up before letting him have his way with them. But again, a change of plans had brought them here… and this wasn't half bad, and she wouldn't complain about another memory being added to this apartment.

Grabbing the camera and the tripod, Mal looks back to Regina, watching as she steps out of her underwear, her brow arching as Regina bends to pick them up, tossing them to the chair where their dresses lay.

"What?" she asks, blinking drunkenly at her. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I just… thought you'd leave them on. That's… usually the point of sexy underwear, you know… to be seen _in_ them." She swallows, dragging her eyes up. "Though, I'm not complaining."

Regina's hand pushes between her own legs, her fingers gliding over her smooth skin. "I don't remember the last time I was this smooth," she tells her frankly as her hands continue upward, touching to her lace garter belt. "Besides, I… think this is sexier."

Mal swallows and nods—it is sexy.

So, with a soft giggle and a shrug, she pulls off her own underwear and casts them aside before reaching for Regina's hand and leading her back into the main room.

"Holy fuck," Robin breathes out, his jaw dropping and his eyes widening as they round the couch.

"You like it?" Regina asks, joining him on the bed as Mal moves to the end of it to set up her camera. "We match."

Robin swallows hard. "I, uh… I see that."

Mal watches as his fingers slide between Regina's legs, feeling her smooth skin as slow grin works his way onto his lips. "You like it," Regina coos.

Robin just nods as Mal sets the timer, then crawls in on the opposite side of him. "Lay back," Mal tells him, "You're a bit overdressed."

He does as he's told. Regina unbuttons his shirt while she works on his pants, and in just a few minutes, he's laying between them, naked, his cock already starting to get hard.

Regina reaches out, rubbing her fingers over Mal's stocking-covered legs as she leans in and presses a kiss to Robin's lips. Her eyes flutter as she and Robin kiss watching as he fingers Regina. She pushes herself closer to him and his free hand forms around her back, sliding up in search for the clasp of her bra. He finds it and pinches it together, then a moment later, she feels it loosen.

Breaking the kiss, she lets the straps fall down her shoulders, dropping the bra onto the ground and smiling as Robin reaches up to squeeze one of her breasts, rolling the nipple between his fingers.

She's not sure when Regina's bra came off, but at some point, it did and she's glad for it. No matter what, a topless Regina always excites her just a bit more. She loves watching them sway and bounce, grabbing a handful and sucking on them...

Regina's hand is working up and down his now-hard cock, pumping slowly as he finger fucks her.

"Where do you want us?" She asks, grinning as she looks between them, watching as their hands pleasure one another. "Tell me what you want me to do."

She gets up on her knees and his hand falls away from her breast—and for a moment, he just looks at her, taking in her stockings and garter belt, a muffled _fuck you look incredible_ falling from his lips as he stares. She grins at him, her hand sliding down her torso, her fingers dipping between her legs—she's so damn wet and as he swallows, his eyes focused on the spot between her legs. Licking his lips, he looks up at her, hungry and like he's ready to devour her.

"Sit on my face," he tells her gruffly.

She smirks as she leans over him to kiss Regina, not able to resist cupping her breast as she does. "I guess you get his cock," she says as she pulls away.

Robin's hands move up, holding her hips as she hovers above him. She can feel his breath on the wet spot between her legs and for a moment, she just stays there, loving the anticipation. She watches as Regina moves, getting up onto her knees and positioning herself above his cock. She rocks her hips back and forth, letting the tip of his cock brush against her sleek folds. He breathes out a bit shakily and his fingers knead at her hips, trying to pull him down to his mouth as Regina sinks down onto his cock.

She watches as it disappears inside of her, watching as her eyes close and she draws in a breath, appreciating the way it fills her—again she feels Robin let out a satisfied little huff just before she lowers herself to his mouth.

Robin has always been good at getting her off this way, licking and sucking, and knowing when to speed up and slow down. His tongue pushes her nearly to the brink, then eases her back, and each time she grows increasingly sensitive.

She rocks her hips against his face, cupping her breasts as her breath grows ragged—she's not sure how much more she can take. But she's going to try to hold out as long as possible because not only is Robin still lapping at her like he could go on forever, but she's quite enjoying watching Regina ride him, bouncing on his cock as she fucks him.

Regina is always louder when she's drunk—moaning loudly and muttering dirty things that encourage them all.

Robin moans against her and his lips form around her clit, sucking hard as she begins to squirm, and unlike all the other times, he doesn't back down. His tongue rubs against her clit as he sucks it and Regina tells her that she wants to watch her come—and it takes little more than that.

Suddenly, she's bucking against his mouth, her thighs squeezing him as she rocks her hips, both needing to pull away and not wanting to. Her heart beats faster as Robin's hold on her hips tightens and she's crying out, and finally, when he eases up on her clit, his tongue slides down between her lips, licking her as her orgasm subsides.

It takes a few minutes for him to let go of her and suddenly her core feels weak.

She eases herself forward, letting her lay down on top of Robin's body, her face inches away from his cock as it slides in and out of Regina. Robin repositions her a bit, still licking and moving her within reach of his cock.

Regina grins down at her as her tongue swipes against Robin's cock, licking him as Regina fucks him—and after only a couple of minutes, Robin is coming and she finds herself reaching a second orgasm.

Finally, she rolls off of him, needing a break.

Regina lets him slip out of her, her hand immediately moving to her clit as she tries to push herself to orgasm, pouting adorably as she tells them she wants to come.

Robin gets up on his knees, his fingers trailing up her stocking as he grins, then a moment later, he flips her onto her back and buries his face between her legs. Mal settles at her side, kneading at one breast as she sucks the nipple of the other—and all the while, Regina wriggles and moans until finally, an orgasm over takes her, her hips bucking against Robin as she whimpers and babbles dirty, but incoherent things.

For awhile, they all just lay there, not saying much as they come back to earth—and then finally, Robin breaks the silence.

"I never realized how much I like garter belts and stockings," her tells them.

"We thought you might.'

"Mm, well, you've always had a thing for black lace," Regina says. "We must've tried on ten differnet sets, but we kept coming back to the black lace."

"I think I'd like to hear about those other sets."

Mal laughs. "Well, you can do more than just hear about them," she says, looking pointedly at him. "I took pictures." Robin's brows jut up, his whole face lighting up. "Among other things."

"Other things."

"You'll just have to wait and see."

Regina nods and presses a kiss to his shoulder. "But something tells me, you won't be disappointed."

And almost as if on cue, the camera lens clicks, taking the last picture on the film roll.

* * *

 _Robin sits up, narrowing his eyes as he listens—he could've sworn he heard something._

 _But both Regina and Mal are still asleep and he easily chalks it up to the wind—well, that is until their bedroom door opens._

" _Mama? Mama, my stomach hurts."_

 _At the sound of Roland's little voice, Regina sits up, suddenly awake._

 _It's not unexpected. Roland went to bed early and barely ate his dinner, and according to Henry, he spent half the afternoon in the nurse's office at school. Given that fall was beginning to feel increasingly like winter, the likelihood that either boy would get sick was higher than usual._

 _When Henry got sick there was a routine_ — _and Henry gave it, admitting that he was sick, resting, and taking his medicine as instructed. Roland, on the other hand, was entirely different from his brother in this regard (and though Robin would never say it aloud, incredibly like his mother). Roland would never admit that he didn't feel well when it started. He'd try to power through so that he could go out and play_ — _and that's exactly why he ended up leaving the nurse's office that afternoon. His class had gym that day and they'd be playing badminton, one of Roland's favorite games._

 _When he got him, he was grumpy, but again, wouldn't admit to not feeling well, though it was obvious. He picked at his dinner, saying he didn't really like the cranberry chicken and that he hated mashed potatoes (neither was true and the chicken had become one of his favorites). He whined when it was time to do his homework, and then under the guise of needing a special notebook, he'd gone upstairs and never returned. Twenty minutes later, Regina found him, asleep on top of the covers._

 _After Henry showered and got ready for bed, Roland woke up. He let Regina start a shower for him and got into his pajamas, insisting that he was feeling fine and refusing to drink the tea she'd made for him_ — _and then, when he came up to kiss Henry goodnight, Roland was again asleep._

 _But like his mother, there was always a point in which he caved_ — _and apparently, he'd now reached that point._

 _Without thinking about it, Robin holds out his arms, and Roland walks right into him, letting him pick him up and lift him into the bed. He can see that Mal's awake now as Roland crawls over her, barely noticing as he seeks out Regina's waiting arms. Regina glances to Mal and then back to him, her brows arching as Roland climbs into her lap, pressing his face into her shoulder_ — _and then, her full attention turns to him._

 _A soft chuckle escapes Robin as he breathes out a breath he hadn't quite realized he was holding_ — _then as he looks to Mal, he can't help but notice the way she's breathing_ — _quietly, but heavily_ — _as her knuckles grip the blanket. He can tell that she's trying to stay as still as possible as if to make herself invisible, and then as he reaches for her, she pushes at his arm, needing to escape. Before he's even up, she's out of the bed, slipping to the hallway._

 _Regina watches her go, looking empathetic as her eyes shift to Robin._

" _I've got him," she whispers in a voice that's barely audible. "Go."_

 _And so he does._

 _Robin finds Mal only a few feet away from the bedroom door, leaning against the wall nearly heaving for air._

" _Hey, it's okay," he murmurs as he reaches for her. "It's fine. You're fine."_

" _It's not," she whispers, looking up at him with tears welled in her eyes. "Robin. It's not at all fine."_

 _He frowns, not really sure what to say. Roland didn't notice her, and if he did, he didn't care. Either way, nothing bad had happened and, truly, a moment like this was inevitable—but a moment like this is also one of her biggest fears._

 _He sighs, reaching out and rubbing his hand over her arm, remembering the last week they spent at her cottage. She'd been anxious about moving in with them and worried how it would look to others, namely their sons. He and Regina dismissed her fears; their relationship with her wasn't going to stay a secret forever, it simply couldn't. But they'd tried to be understanding; after all, she always felt like the odd one out and it was important to them to make her comfortable in their new arrangement._

" _Come here."_

 _He pulls her into a hug, glad that she lets him. He rubs her back as her head settles in the crook of his neck, and his heart aches for her as he feels tears on his skin._

" _Hey, it's okay," he murmurs, hugging her a little tighter. "You're okay."_

" _Robin_ —"

" _It's okay, Mal. You're okay."_

" _Robin, what if_ —"

" _We'll deal with it."_

" _But_ —"

" _Roland loves you. So does Henry. It'll be fine."_

" _I was in bed with you. I_ —"

" _We were sleeping, love. That's it. Just laying side by side."_

" _But I was in your bed and Roland…" Her head lifts and her blue eyes are wide and teary. "Robin, I was between you. There's no way_ —" _Mal's eyes press closed. "He climbed over me. He noticed."_

 _Robin softens. "I love my son, but he's not the most observant boy. Henry is. Roland, no so much."_

 _He can tell that she doesn't believe him, but it's true, especially when Roland's mind is on something else. He thinks about the time he and Regina painted Roland's bedroom. He was nearly four and finally, was getting a big boy room of his own, just like Henry's. They'd tried to involve him in picking things like colors and were glad when he chose a light blue for the walls. They picked out bedding, too, and a few things for the walls. Of course, a lot of the things from his old room would be kept_ — _namely a piggy bank that Regina's father had given him on his first birthday._

 _Roland love feeding change into it. Every time he found change on the floor or in the couch cushions, he collected it and ran to get his piggy bank. He loved picking it up and shaking it, and hearing the change rattling around in it, and not a day passed in the three year's he'd had the bank that he didn't interact with it._

 _So, when the piggy bank broke somehow as they were moving things in and out of the bedroom, they'd panicked, assuming that Roland would be crushed. In paint-covered clothes, they headed to the department store and found one that was quite similar_ — _similar, but not exact_ — _and the whole way home, they debated about whether or not he'd notice. Neither could believe that he wouldn't._

 _Then, when Regina's father brought home the boys, Roland immediately wanted to see his new room. He grinned happily as he looked around it, then gingerly walked up to his nightstand and emptied the change from his pocket into the piggy bank, patting its head like he always did after feeding it._

 _He still had no idea._

 _Henry, of course, noticed it and they'd bribed him with cookies not to say anything._

" _Come on," he says, taking Mal's hand and leading her into the room that claims to be hers. "Sit down," he says, flicking on the light. "Relax."_

" _I don't think I can relax."_

" _Try," he says gently, leading her to the bed. "Come here."_

 _He lays back on the pillows and opens his arms to her, and though a bit reluctantly, she crawls in beside him. He holds her close and for awhile, he doesn't say anything. They just lay together as he strokes her hair. Mal's breathing steadies and she's no longer crying, and he thinks that maybe she's fallen back to sleep._

 _But then, her voice breaks the silence. "I don't want anything to change."_

" _Nothing will."_

" _You don't know that."_

 _It's true. He doesn't know that, but he can't see much changing one way or another._

" _The boys adore you. They love having you here with us. They love that you're a part of the family, and you know that Regina and I are hopelessly in love with you. It's going to be fine. It's going to be absolutely fine."_

" _Because they don't know," she says, sounding so sure. "They just think I'm a family friend. If they knew..."_

 _Her voice trails off and she doesn't finish, but he's fairly certain he knows what she was going to say._

" _I don't remember the last time I was this happy," she tells him. "I… I know it was probably when we were all together before, but… this is… it's different, you know? It's…"_

" _Mal, nothing's going to change. Not really. It might be awkward at first, but they'll come around. It's going to be fine."_

 _He presses a kiss to the top of her head and holds her a little tighter, not sure what else to say and knowing that she wouldn't believe a word of it anyway. And, at least, she seems somewhat comforted in his hold…_

 _Regina peeks in a while later, smiling gently as she looks to them, stretched out on the bed._

" _How is he?" Mal asks, lifting her head off Robin's chest._

" _He's… sick. I think he has a stomach bug."_

 _Mal swallows, looking a bit guilty. "Did he… did he… say anything about me being in your bed?"_

" _No," Regina says as she comes into the room. "He did ask where his dad went, though."_

" _And what did you tell him?"_

 _Grinning, Regina climbs into the bed, settling herself on the other side of Mal. "That he went to get a glass of water."_

" _Oh_ —"

" _He believed it."_

 _Mal swallows hard, still looking worried._

" _He didn't notice you," Regina says, cuddling into her. "I put him back to bed and we were talking, he told me to stop talking as we passed this room. He didn't want to wake you. He thought you'd been sleeping in here the whole time." Mal blinks, her eyes narrowing as Regina smiles, holding up her hand. "I swear. He even said he tip-toed past your room on the way to ours. He was very worried about waking you up. He had no idea that you were in our bed."_

" _See," Robin murmurs, "no harm done."_

 _Mal smiles a bit hesitantly. She looks relieved, but still upset. "Maybe… I shouldn't sleep with you two anymore. Maybe I really should use this room."_

" _No," Regina's quick to say. "That's not an option."_

" _But_ —"

" _I love having you in bed with us. I love falling asleep with you and waking up with you and… no. I won't give that up."_

" _The real answer is that we need to lock the door," Robin says, a soft chuckle rising into his voice. "Or_ —"

" _He was sick and wanted his mom," Mal says. "He should_ —"

" _He can knock."_

 _Regina grins. "That… is probably something we should do. Even if you weren't in there with us, we shouldn't have it so that the boys can just walk in. We're really lucky they haven't ever walked in on something much worse than us lying there together."_

" _And suppose they ask why the door is suddenly locked?"_

 _Robin grins. "I'm pretty sure I could start an answer neither of them would want me to finish." Regina laughs softly. "I think Henry's still scarred from the answer I gave him when he asked about our old neighbor's new baby."_

 _That earns a little grin from Mal, and finally, she nods. "Okay," she murmurs. "We can… we can do that. We can lock the door."_

" _Does that mean you'll come back to bed with us?"_

 _Mal hesitates, but nods, and still, he's not entirely sure she believes what Regina told her. It doesn't really matter, though. He meant it when he said that nothing would change if and when Henry and Roland found out about the nature of their relationship. Sure, the boys might not understand it at first, but they'd come around. In the months since they returned from camp, they'd completely fallen in love with Mal. Regardless of who she was to their parents, she was the woman who gave them snacks after school and made them dinner, she helped them with their homework and made an effort to know about the things they were interested in. She took them to her studio and let them dabble with paint, she taught them to take photographs and often took them on little road trips to exciting places that neither he nor Regina would have ever even considered. She listened with interest as they told her about their days and made even the most mundane tasks fun for them._

 _She hadn't been in their lives for long, but already she'd brightened them in ways she couldn't know_ — _and no matter how they reacted to the initial news, at some point, they'd come around and accept it. Not because they had to, but because they loved her._

 _However, Mal would never believe that until it actually happened._

* * *

The day after Ruby's party proves to be incredibly lazy—and for that, they're all incredibly grateful.

They get back to the house just after six in the morning. Anna is passed out on the couch, covered up with a knit blanket, a magazine baring Elvis Presley's likeness folded over her chest. The radio is still on, though very quiet, and there's a half eaten bowl of popcorn sitting on the table in front of it, likely left over from the night before. Regina wakes her before going up to check on the boys, and while she's doing that, Robin pays her and walks her home as Mal makes a pot of coffee.

They get a couple hours to lazily lounge in the family room, listening to soft jazz music as they sip coffee and doze, but the boys are up by eight, full of energy and ready to go out and play in the fresh snow that fell overnight.

Mal and Robin make breakfast—and despite her own hangover, she goes all out and Robin simply follows her lead. They make mushroom and spinach omelettes (and to her surprise Roland asks for seconds), toast with smashed bananas, blueberries, and honey, and all the breakfast meat in the refrigerator.

It's tempting for her to just sit back and let them all do the work (at this point, it's useless to even offer help and everyone knows it), so she starts to gather all of the laundry that was neglected for the last week or so, sorting it into piles all over the family room and tossing in a load just as Robin calls the boys to eat.

The boys recount nearly every detail of their night in with Anna. They're mindful to explain that she followed the rules and didn't let them eat too many snacks as they explain the board game tournament they had—and Henry beams as he announces that he was the champion. Roland's eyes roll and she suspects that this isn't the first time he's had to listen to Henry gloat.

When breakfast is done, the boys finally get to go out and play in the snow and they stay out until lunchtime rolls around. Almost immediately after breakfast, Mal put on a pot of chicken soup and Robin tossed some rolls into the oven to warm, and she continued on with the laundry, again, not even bothering to go through the motions of offering help in the kitchen they all knew wouldn't be at all helpful.

There's enough soup for lunch and dinner, and they spend the rest of the day on the couch, listening to _A Christmas Carol_ on the radio, eating soup, rolls, and snacks left over from the night before, and challenging Henry to a rematch at the same games they played with Anna the night before. Between games, Regina makes the boys help her fold and put away the laundry, and Robin rewards them with extra cookies they all pretend she doesn't know about.

In spite of their hangovers, it's a perfect day—and when the boys fall asleep well before their bedtime (likely because they stayed up well past it the night before), they all breathe a sigh of relief at the thought of also getting to turn in early.

"How about a nightcap?" Robin asks grinning as he holds up a canister of hot cocoa powder and a bottle of spiced rum. "I'm not sure there are any marshmallows left, but… I think I can make it work without 'em."

Regina smiles, nodding as she falls back onto the couch, cuddling into Mal. "Yes, please."

"I saved some," Mal tells him, grinning. "There's a tin of them behind the crisco."

Robin brightens. "This is why I love you," he says simply before turning back to the kitchen.

Mal laughs and Regina cuddles closer to her, staring at the tree and watching the lights twinkle. It's soothing and had Robin not suggested a nightcap, she'd likely have suggested they all go to bed; after all, they boys going to bed early would be both a blessing and a curse as they'd likely be up earlier than usual. "We really should go to bed…"

"Mm, I know," Mal murmurs. "But then, we'd have to get up."

"I'm not sure how Robin's still standing, let alone making something."

"He's been looking for something sweet since he realized the boys ate the last piece of Granny's pound cake."

Regina laughs. "It's his fault. He hid it in a clear glass container."

"He also told them to 'find something' for dessert. And, well… they found his cake."

Regina draws in a breath and slowly releases it, a smile drawing onto her lips. "Did you develop the pictures?'"

She can practically feel Mal grinning. "Yes."

"We're there some good ones?"

"Oh, yes."

She lifts her head. "Really?"

Mal nods. "I laid them out. I want you to look at them, though—"

"Gladly."

Mal laughs. "There's this one of you that…" She takes a breath and bites down on her lip. "I had to take a minute to recover." Regina lifts her head, her brows arching. "There are also quite a few that look like I'm trying to save you from drowning in the sheets." Her lips press together and her nose scrunches. "And some have some rather unflattering angles of my ass."

"Your ass has no unflattering angles."

Mal's eyes roll, but before she can argue, Robin appears carrying a tray with the drinks and looking quite proud of himself as he points to the whipped topping, peppermint sticks and chocolate shavings on the drinks.

"So, what have you been talking about?" Robin asks, handing them each a drink as he sits down beside Regina. Mal says _just one of your Christmas presents_ while Regina offers the much cruder explanation of _Mal's ass_ and then, as Robin's brows arch in confused amusement, she and Mal dissolve into giggles, never explaining more than that despite his follow up questions.

They finish their drinks and continue to lay lazily on the couch, looking at the tree and watching as snow begins to fall outside the window, and every now and then, Robin tries to inquire about what his Christmas gift has to do with Mal's ass.

Playfully, Regina leans in to kiss him (and to shut him up). He kisses her back, sweetly and a bit lazily, and Mal's fingers trail up and down her back, sighing constantly as she watches them make out beside her—and then, not wanting to exclude her, Regina turns, somewhat abruptly, pushing Mal back against the arm of the couch and laying on top of her as she kisses her.

Robin leans in, hovering over her and placing fluttery kisses on her shoulder and neck and up her jaw—and then, he pulls back rather abruptly.

He says something that she doesn't quite make out, but his tone doesn't seem to match the mood. So, she pulls back and freezes as her eyes settle almost immediately on Henry and Roland standing at the edge of the room.

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

Regina sighs and looks quickly to Robin, unable to read his expression.

"Hey, guys," she murmurs sweetly, swallowing hard as she tries to figure out how to explain what they've just walked in on and wishing she wasn't so goddamn tired. "Can't sleep?"

Roland fidgets with his fingers. "Um—we, um… we heard the radio and, um… we wanted to, um…"

Her eyes press closed; she didn't even realize it was still on. But now that she's aware of it, she can hear Bob Hope telling jokes on a show that often is replayed at this time of night during this time of year—and the radio sits directly underneath the vent. It'd probably been echoing in their rooms.

"What's going on?" Henry asks, eyeing Mal.

She's gone over telling the boys about Mal a thousand times in her head, but it was always on her terms and when she was ready for a serious conversation.

"We we're just, um… relaxing a bit before bed," Robin says, clearing his throat. "How long have you two been standing there?"

Regina grimaces. It can't be more than a minute or so. They weren't there when she turned to Mal—and then, she thinks of Mal, sitting stiffly beside her and holding her breath. A little grin pulls up at the corner of her mouth. "Long enough, I assume."

"Yeah," Henry murmurs.

"Um, why don't we, um… go upstairs and talk about it, hm?" she asks, looking quickly back at Robin.

"That's a good idea," Robin says when the boys don't say anything in reply. "Why don't we do that."

Regina nods and gets up, and momentarily, they both look to Mal. "We, um… we might be awhile…"

"Take your time," she says in a small voice.

Regina nods. She wants to tell her that it'll be okay. She wants to kiss her goodnight and tell her to go to bed, that she and Robin will join her soon, but the moment is too awkward for any of that. So, instead, she pats her hand, grabbing her fingers and giving them a quick squeeze as she offers her a smile that she hopes conveys what she's feeling. Then, she and Robin lead the boys back up to Henry's bedroom.

"I'm sure you have questions," Robin says as they boys climb up onto Henry's bed.

Regina sits at the foot and takes a breath as Robin pulls over Henry's desk chair. "So, let's hear them."

"You were kissing Mal," Roland says. "It looked like you were kissing her the way you kiss Daddy sometimes."

"Yeah," Regina says, nodding. "I was kissing her that way."

"Why?" Henry asks, his voice cautious as he stares at her.

"Because I love her the same way that I love Daddy." She looks back at Robin and grins gently. "We both do."

Roland looks to Robin. "You love Mal, too?"

"I do," Robin admits easily. "I love her as much as I love your mother."

Henry hesitates. "So, you're… you're not like… cheating or… getting a divorce or—" His voice trails off as Roland's eyes widen. Their younger son obviously hadn't thought about it that deeply. "I just… it looked like all three of your were, um… doing stuff, but… that's… that's not how it works."

"Your mom and I aren't getting divorced," Robin's quick to clarify. "And, no, it's… it's not cheating or anything like that."

"But, she was kissing someone else."

Regina draws in a breath as she tries to collect her thoughts, to put things as simply, but as clearly as possible. 'We're both in love with Mal, and she's in love with us. It's not that different from—"

"Yeah it is," Henry cuts in. "No one else's parents have a girlfriend."

"That's… probably true," Robin admits. "But that doesn't make it wrong."

"Did you meet her when we were at camp?" Roland asks, shifting the subject a bit.

"No, we met her in law school."

"I thought you guys were engaged in law school."

"We were—"

"We met her at a party during our first year of law school, just a little while after we got engaged, and… we both…" Regina's voice trails off as she looks to Robin, smiling at the memory, the way her heart beat faster as she introduced herself to a gorgeous blonde girl, hoping just to flirt for a bit and watching as Robin's eyes settled on her for the first time, his attraction immediately obvious. "We both couldn't get over how pretty she was. We both liked her a lot, and when we realized that we were both feeling things for her… things just sort of… fell into place."

"As we were figuring out those feelings, we got to know her better."

"We became friends—"

"And then we fell in love—"

"And to our surprise, she'd… she'd been struggling with her feelings for both of us, too."

Roland considers it. "Did you ask her out on a date?"

It hadn't quite gone that way, but Regina nods. "Yeah. We dated her through the rest of law school."

Regina glances to Robin and his eyes are fixed on a silent Henry.

"What happened after law school?" Roland asks. "Why did you stop dating her?"

"Well, things were complicated. She was engaged—"

"There was _another_ person involved in all this?" Henry blurts out, his eyes widening. "You dated another—"

"No," Regina cuts in. "No, it wasn't like that. Her financé was… not a nice person. He wasn't good to her, but she didn't have much of a choice in it."

Henry looks down, looking a little embarrassed. "Oh. I thought—"

"It's okay," Robin says, reaching out and patting his knee. "This is a lot to process."

"We never really thought of how things might end because we didn't want it to," Regina says. "But then Mal got married and had to move on with her life… and we moved on with ours."

"We missed her terribly, though," Robin adds.

"And then, over the summer she… she came back."

Henry nods, his eyes still filled with skepticism and his expression serious. "What happened to her husband?"

Regina swallows. There's no need to go into details about that. "He died," she says simply.

"And she was free to return to us."

"Since then, we've just been… trying to figure things out."

Roland fires off what feels like a hundred questions. He asks if they're happier now and whether or not Mal is going to stay this time. He wants to know what that makes her to him—he thinks maybe stepmother, but isn't quite sure—and whether or not they'll marry her, like the married each other. He asks other things, too, barely breathing between the questions and she and Robin do their best to answer them all. By the end of it, her head is spinning.

Then finally, Henry speaks. "I just… I don't get it," he admits, looking up at them a bit uncomfortable. "How can you love two people the same?"

Regina looks to Robin and he offers a gentle smile and a nod. This part, she's rehearsed a bit—though, only in disjointed, imaginary conversations she thought about in the shower.

"It's not so unlike the way I love you and your brother," she tells him. "Roland being born didn't make me love you less, and meeting Mal and falling in love with her didn't make me love your dad less."

Robin nods. "I don't think a person has a limit on how much love they have to give."

"You don't...like…get jealous?" His lips press together, his discomfort more than evident. "That's what always happens in books and stuff."

Again, she and Robin exchange looks, shaking their heads. "No," Robin says. "I trust your mother and I trust Mal. There's no jealousy between any us."

"This sort of relationship isn't for everyone," Regina admits. "Like your dad said, it takes trust. It also requires a lot of honesty and communication—"

"Those are all good things," Roland says, looking to Henry. "You should be honest with people."

Henry considers it, and again, she can't quite tell what he's thinking or feeling, but it seems like he's biting his tongue, ready but not willing to point out his parents haven't exactly been honest. "Does everyone know? Everyone but us?" he asks instead.

"Only a few people know," Robin replies. "It's hard for a lot of people to understand."

"Yeah," Henry murmurs.

"Doesn't that make it tough?"

She looks to Roland and shakes her head. "Not really. Keeping it from the two of you was the hardest. But we… we wanted to give you some time to get to know her, to get comfortable with her, to—"

"Were you actually going to tell us?" Henry asks, looking between them. "Or was it always gonna stay a secret?"

"We wanted you to know."

Robin nods. "But like your mom said, we didn't just want to throw you into it."

Roland nods but Henry doesn't look so sure.

"Nothing really changes, you know," Robin tells him. "You like her and—"

"What if it's weird now?" Henry asks, his voice small as he fidgets with his fingers.

"Why would it be weird?" Regina asks gently. "For you it won't be really any different than it's been since we moved here."

Henry takes a breath. "What if… what people notice?"

She and Robin exchange looks.

"Like your friends?"

Henry nods. "My friend Jimmy's parents got divorced and _everyone_ was talking about it. He never gets to see his mom now."

"Well, first of all, we aren't going to do anything that embarrasses you, and of the three of us, no one is more aware of what people will say or notice than Mal." She takes a breath and gives his knee a little squeeze. "And if you're worried this is going to somehow split your dad and I apart, I can tell you with absolute certainty that that's not going to happen… ever."

"Your mom and I have weathered quite a few storms together. This isn't a storm."

"If anything, it's the calm that comes after it."

Henry nods, but still she can't quite read him.

"Okay," Robin breathes out. "I think that's enough for one night, yeah? Why don't you sleep on it and we'll talk again in the morning, if you want."

"Yeah," Regina agrees. "Take some time to process it."

Henry nods.

"Anything else before we tuck you in again?"

"Yeah," Roland says, looking between his parents. "Can we have that banana toast again tomorrow? I really liked that."

For a moment she and Robin just stare at him, caught completely off guard. And then they laugh—even Henry smiles, and they take it as a sign that he'll soon come around.

With promises of banana toast in the morning, they tuck the boys back in and kiss them goodnight—and then they set out to find Mal, knowing that calming down their children will be nothing compared to calming her down.

* * *

 _Robin smiles as he looks around the kitchen, proud that it's not destroyed._

 _It's been a long time since he's made dinner on his own since Mal came to live with them, his sons' standards for meals have shot up considerably._

 _He'd kept it simple, making macaroni and cheese, steamed broccoli, and the standard tossed salad they had with every meal._

 _Both boys ate it and asked for a second helping, and to his surprise Roland volunteered to help with the dishes._

 _All he had to do was the baking dish he'd made the macaroni in._

 _Not bad, especially considering he and the boys were on their own for the evening._

 _This was a rare occurrence nowadays. Either Regina or Mal was always around; it was rare they both had plans on the same evening._

 _But Archie—their former professor, Regina's once and current mentor, and most importantly their friend—invited her to dinner. She'd accepted without knowing that Mal was having new cabinets installed at the old apartment that was being renovated into a studio._

 _Regina offered to cancel—after all, both boys had been recently sick—but he'd insisted he could handle things on his own, and now, he was proud to say that he had..._

 _Henry sighs as he looks down at his science textbook, his brow furrowing as he stares at the page like it's written in a language he doesn't understand. Robin watches as his son's eyes scan the page, reading it again and again, and that spark of understanding never igniting._

 _He looks confused and he's never confused by his homework_ — _and as he considers it, he can't remember the last time he actually needed to help Henry with his homework. Roland, on the other hand, always wants help, even when he doesn't need it. He likes the validation and maybe he even needs it for a boost of confidence, but Henry was never like that. Henry was always confident in his abilities. School work, no matter the subject, came easy to him, and on the rare occasions it didn't, he welcomed the challenge, working through it on his own until he figured things out._

 _And he always did._

 _But now, he looked absolutely stumped._

" _Need some help?" Henry looks up at him and frowns. He's been out of school for three days with the same stomach bug Roland had just gotten over. "Let me see what you're working on."_

 _Henry slides the book toward him. "The water cycle."_

" _Oh…" He scans the page. He doesn't remember learning about this when he was in school and though he understands the concept, he's not sure the detail in which his son would learn it. "Well, let's see here…"_

" _Violet gave me her notes."_

" _Oh, good. That'll be helpful," he murmurs as he looks up. "So, basically, the water cycle is—"_

" _I know what it is," Henry says, cutting in. "I get how it works."_

 _Robin's brow furrows. "Then, what's the problem?"_

" _This," Henry says, sliding a piece of paper across the table to him. "I don't know how to do this."_

 _Robin looks at it. "You have to write a narrative?"_

" _Yeah, from the point of view of water."_

" _Water—"_

 _Henry rolls his eyes and scoffs. "It's so dumb."_

" _You love writing stories."_

" _About people. Not water." It's a fair point, he has to admit. "We got to pick partners."_

 _Robin looks back to him. "Who did you get paired up with?"_

" _No one. I was out sick when we picked." He frowns. "Violet is working with this kid, Peter, who_ —"

" _You don't like Peter," Robin murmurs, remembering a recent story Henry told about getting picked last in gym class. "Right?"_

" _Right."_

" _And your best friend is working with him," he says, suddenly better understanding the source of Henry's frustration. "Well, it seems unfair that you can't have any partner because you were home sick." Henry only sighs and looks back at the paper. "I'm not mad at her. He told her he's failing and needs the A."_

" _Well, that's hardly her problem… or anyone's other than Peter's."_

" _She feels bad. His parents got a divorce and his dad's mean to him and_ —"

" _Let me guess, he lives with his dad now?"_

" _Yup." Henry frowns as he rubs his fingers along the edge of the paper. "I mean, I get it. She feels bad for him, but… it just sucks for me. Violet and I work really well together."_

 _Robin nods and wonders if his son has a bit of a crush on his friend. "Well_ —"

" _And I really don't know how I'm supposed to make water a character. It's… it's just water and it has to be illustrated!" Frustrated, he groans. "If I had an idea, I wouldn't be mad about working alone."_

 _Robin frowns, not really knowing how it help._

" _My teacher even wrote me a personal note reminding me not to just regurgitate Violet's notes or what's in the book."_

" _No one should regurgitate on someone else's notes," Roland says coming into the room, his eyes widening as Robin laughs and Henry's eyes roll. "What? It'd be gross."_

 _Robin reaches for Roland, grabbing him and lifting him into his knee. "Do you think 'regurgitate' means he's talking about throwing up on Violet's notes?"_

 _Roland blinks. "Isn't that what that means?"_

" _It just means I'm not supposed to just… re-explain what's in her notes. I'm supposed to write a story."_

" _Ohh—"_

" _If they were Peter's notes, I'd throw up on them," Henry adds._

 _Sighing, Robin looks to Roland. "I thought you were upstairs reading your new comic book?"_

" _I was, but—"_

" _Hellooo," Mall calls as she comes in through the front door._

 _Roland grins a bit smugly. "Mal's home. I wanted to say hi."_

 _Mal joins them in the kitchen and Robin's heart swells as Roland runs to hug her, excitedly telling her about his new comic—and then, almost abruptly, he excuses himself to return to reading it._

 _Mal laughs and he shakes his head, and so badly, he wants to reach for her._

 _But he can't, so instead he asks if she's had dinner yet._

 _She laughs again and said that Granny kept her well fed—and at the mention of Granny's onion rings, Henry looks up._

" _I love her onion rings!" He grins. "And her chili dogs."_

" _I'm more of a burger girl, myself," Mal admits easily. "I had a strawberry sundae, too."_

" _Stop. I'm drooling! That sound so good!"_

 _Sitting down beside Robin, she looks down at the science book. "So what were you guys up to while Granny was stuffing me with junk food?"_

" _Enjoying macaroni and broccoli—"_

" _And trying to figure out this science project," Henry adds as he hands her the paper explaining it. "I don't know how to tell a story about this—"_

" _Your water droplet could go on a little journey," Mall suggests, grinning. "Or he could have a job as a tour guide—"_

 _Momentarily, Henry brightens but his face falls a moment later. "Even if I could write a story like that, I can't draw."_

" _This paper doesn't say you need drawings."_

 _Henry leans forward and points to the paper. "Yeah it does. Right there."_

" _That just says images."_

 _Henry frowns. "I guess I could cut some from magazines, but it'd be hard to get the same pictures. It'd look messy."_

" _You could take your own." Henry looks up at her and watches as a warm smile spreads across her lips. "Have you ever heard of photo essays, Henry?"_

 _Robin leans back and smiles as Henry takes Mal's tour guide idea and runs with it—and every time he gets stumped, she talks him through it. It's adorable to watch them this way. Mal's arm is draped over the back of Henry's chair as they huddle around Henry's notebook. Henry's mood has completely changed, and Mal is easily matching his level of excitement._

 _As they make plans to go to Mal's studio that weekend, he finds himself wondering what it is that Mal is going to help Henry photograph. But he supposes it doesn't really matter._

 _He likes that they're bonding._

 _Regina comes home just as they're finishing up the outline, going back through it and filling in bits Henry missed or wants to change._

" _What's this?" Regina asks, whispering as if interrupting something sacred._

" _Henry needed some help figuring out what to do with a science project, and unsurprisingly, Mal has a million ideas."_

 _Regina just smiles as Henry looks excitedly to Mal, pointing to something on the paper and whispering something his parents don't quite catch. His face practically lighting up as she nods in agreement over whatever he's said—and he can tell that he and Regina are in agreement and this is all too adorable for words._

* * *

Things have been… awkward.

And while the situation at home could be better, it could also be a lot worse.

On that first night, Mad hadn't slept.

After leaving the boys' rooms, they'd found Mal sitting cross-legged on her bed. She was quiet and still, looking straight ahead. She just assumed the conversation with Henry and Roland went poorly. For months, she'd been waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for their happy little bubble to burst, just as it had before. Before she even let them speak, she explained that maybe a little distance was a good idea. She had her studio above Granny's diner, and though, she'd already started renovations, she could easily switch things up—after all, what contractor was going to complain about extra cash?

The reservations she'd had at the end of summer came flooding back, tumbling out of her as she tried to keep her tears at bay, explaining that some things were just too complicated to actually work out. She'd known it that past summer and she'd been foolish not to better stand her ground. She let her emotions get the best of her—but that had always been her downfall, especially where they were concerned.

She loved them, and she knew that they loved her, too. They wanted it to work—as complicated and messy as it was—and so did she.

But maybe wanting it wasn't enough.

Maybe wanting it was selfish.

Her eyes closed at that.

She'd spent so much of her adult life hiding. She wasn't eager to do it again, but maybe this was a lesson she needed to learn. Once before, she'd relied heavily on them to provide happiness; she'd never learned to provide it for herself.

She'd tried to smile as she explained her case, trying to put a positive spin on it and failing miserably.

And all the while, she wouldn't let her eyes meet theirs. Still, they could see the tears glistening in her eyes, they could hear the tremble that she tried to keep from her voice, and they couldn't help but notice the way she fidgeted with her fingers as she sometimes did when she was worried.

Mal stopped short of saying she's regretting coming to them or the months they'd spent together, but those sentiments—as disingenuous as they all knew they were—were there on the tip of her tongue. She stopped to either swallow them or muster the courage to say them, and that's when Regina was finally able to get a word in.

"Are you done?" Regina asked plainly, brow arched and hands on her hips.

Mal blinked. "I…"

"Things didn't go poorly," Regina said, looking to Robin for confirmation. "I won't lie and say that things went spectacularly, but they didn't go badly."

"Not at all—"

Mal's eyes narrowed. She doesn't look like she believes her.

"I think it's fair to say that Henry has some reservations," Robin told her. "I think he just needs… to think about it for awhile and come to terms with it."

"It wasn't much different from the conversation we had with them when we sold the house—"

Mal's eyes widened. She wasn't aware of that.

But Regina found herself nodding and explaining that the boys hadn't been happy to leave their school and friends behind; but they loved being up at her cottage, spending time outdoors, hiking and climbing trees, swimming in the lake and skipping rocks. By the end of the summer, they were excited about the prospect of a new neighbor and a new school; in a lot of ways, it was the blending of the best of both worlds for them. Their life in the city had always been set apart from their outdoor interests…

Robin added that the boys were pretty resilient. They adjusted well, they made friends easily, they were happy kids—and then, he gently reminded her that he wasn't raising sons who'd be intolerant of differences in people, he wouldn't bend to give them what they wanted simply because they wanted it or thought it was what they should have. At the end of the day, it couldn't be denied that Henry and Roland had come to love Mal and see her as a natural fit in their family, so Robin was confident that any discomfort they might feel now would soon give way.

Mal tried to argue, especially on that last point, but they hadn't allowed it, and in the end, she was just too tired.

They'd convinced her to come to bed. Though she agreed, it was with reluctance, and despite her agreement, that didn't mean she slept.

None of them did, not much at least…

So, the next morning, they find themselves at Granny's diner for breakfast.

They were glad that the diner was fairly empty that morning, but it usually was as the holidays approached.

From the outside looking in, there was nothing unusual about that particular morning—at least nothing that couldn't be explained away by tiredness. But Granny wasn't an outsider in their lives, and she knew them all better than most people did. She picked up on how quiet Henry was and Mal's lack of eye contact. At first, it seemed like she might leave it alone, but when Mal simply ordered hot tea for breakfast, she'd sighed loudly and looked between them all as she waited for an explanation.

So she and Robin told her what happened the night before.

There was no reason not to.

Henry hung on every word of their explanation, watching for a reaction from Granny, but she only smiled and said that she was glad. She didn't like secrets because they inserted conflict where it didn't belong, she liked it better when things were out in the open.

Then, she surprised them all, by holding out her hand to Henry and asking him to come and help her in the kitchen. They hadn't mentioned anything about how Henry reacted to learning about their relationship to Mal, but she easily figured it out. She explained that two of her cooks had gone home for the holidays and Ruby had meant to help out, but still hadn't shown up. Luckily for her, it'd been a quiet morning so far, being that Christmas was in two days, the town had all but been abandoned. Still, she had to be prepared for a possible rush. Henry hesitated for a moment, but Granny smiled warmly and wiggled her fingers at him, telling him that she didn't have all day. He took her hand and followed her to the kitchen, leaving Roland pouting at the table.

"He always gets to do things that I don't." He frowns as he looks between his parents, his eyes settling on Mal as if deciding that she's his best audience for this particular complaint. "I'm not _that_ much younger than he is. It's not fair that I don't get to do things that he does."

Normally, this argument from their youngest son would grate on their nerves, but today, Regina's glad for the normalcy it brings.

"Well, maybe it's not always because he's older," Mal says gently and even a bit hesitant, not sure that it's really her place to have this conversation. But neither she nor Robin say anything, leaving her to it.

"What else would it be?"

Biting down on her lip, she looks between Robin and Regina, and then she looks back to Roland. "He has different interests than you do, right?" Roland considers it, then nods. "Maybe Granny asked him because he's always so willing to try different things on the menu. Maybe she wanted to show him how to make something, or…"

Roland sighs and crosses his arms tightly over his chest. "I'm not as picky as I was."

"I know," she says, laughing gently. "You know, cooking takes a lot of measuring…"

Roland looks to her. "I know. I watch you cook all the time."

"Well, that's math. Henry likes math. He's pretty good at it, too."

"So, you think that's what he's doing back there?" Roland asks, glancing toward the kitchen. "He's helping with the math part of cooking?"

"It could very well be."

Regina grins as Robin leans forward, coming down to Roland's level. "Would it make you feel better to do something your brother didn't get to do?"

Roland's smile is curious and his nod immediate. "Like what?"

Reaching into his pocket, Robin pulls out a handful of loose change. "Pick out the nickels," he tells him. "You can play as many songs as there are nickels."

Roland beams as he counts out five.

"Do you know how to use the jukebox?" Regina asks, glancing to the little enclave where it sits hidden away by the kitchen and bathrooms. "I could show you."

"Okay," Roland says, waiting for her to slide out of the booth before hopping down and running to the back of the diner. He's several steps ahead of her and by the time she reaches the jukebox, Roland's already standing on a chair in front of it, skimming through the list of songs.

She shows him how to insert the coin and which buttons to push to see more song selections and which to push to choose a song, and then as Roland flips to the next page, she excuses herself to go to the bathroom.

Rounding the corner, she pushes open the bathroom door, but hovers there, peeking into the kitchen where Granny is talking to Henry.

Henry is sitting on the counter beside her, watching as she cooks.

"...but why is being different a bad thing?" Granny asks. "Some of the best people I know are different."

Henry's lips press together. "I don't know."

"Let me tell you something," Granny says as she finishes setting sausage links in a pan on the stove, putting a top on the pan just before leaning against the edge of the counter. "I meet a lot of people at this diner, you know that?"

"I bet," Henry says nodding. "It's usually always so busy."

Granny nods. "Well, that's taught me a lot about people."

"It has?"

She nods again. "I've learned that everyone has quirks—"

"But this isn't like… eating ketchup on your scrambled eggs or dipping your bacon in grape jelly or—"

"Henry, _nobody_ is normal." She takes a breath, pushing her fingers through the front of Henry's hair, her hand falling to cup his chin. "Not a single person, no matter what they want you to think."

"Have you... like… always known?" Henry asks, his voice tentative. "Like from the beginning?"

Granny's eyes narrow. "I've known longer than they realized, I'll tell ya that."

"Oh—"

"I think you know that I've always had a soft spot for Mal," she tells him, turning back to the sausage and lifting the lid to check on it. "Your parents were the best thing that ever happened to her. She found… her people," she explains as she looks back to him, again leaning against the edge of the counter. "But you know what? She was good for them, too."

Henry considers it and nods—and Regina wonders if he's noticed any sort of change in either her or Robin since Mal reentered their lives. It wasn't that they were unhappy throughout his childhood—quite the contrary—but there was always something missing and so often happy moments were clouded by guilt they couldn't do anything about.

"And you like her right?" Granny asks. "You can be honest."

Again, Henry hesitates, but nods. "Yeah. I do."

"You like her living with your family?"

Again, Henry gives a hesitant nod. "She's a good cook. She's fun, too."

"Yeah? How so?" Granny asks, clearly not needing an explanation, but wanting Henry to consider it.

He pauses as he draws in a breath, obviously struggling with conflicting feelings. "Well, we made this project for school. It was about a drop of water that was a tour guide." Henry offers a sort of sheepish grin and a laugh. "I know that's dumb, but we did the cool double-exposure thing for some of the pages and she taught me how to use different lenses on her camera to get really cool shots."

"See," Granny says, offering a wink as Regina pulls away from the door. "It's not all bad, then, is it?"

She doesn't hear what Henry says in response.

She doesn't need to.

All she wanted to know is if Henry was putting on a front for her and Robin, if he was hiding feelings of anger that surpassed the expected confusion. But it didn't seem that that was the case, and if anything, Granny was the best possible sounding board for him. She was safe and he trusted her, and for all of his life, he'd known her to her to be honest and straightforward. She didn't sugarcoat things or beat around the bush. And she expected that from everyone else—she also expected people to give others the benefit of the doubt. She didn't have a judgmental bone in her body and accepted people as they were, yet at the same time pushed them to make smart choices and evaluate their motivations and perceptions, often pushing them to be better people.

It was no surprise that for years now college kids flocked to her diner, taking advantage of the cheap coffee and free counsel she offered.

"Do you have your songs picked out yet?" Regina asks, coming up behind Roland and slipping an arm around him, hugging him into her side. "Or are you still browsing."

"I have them picked," he tells her, grinning as he looks to her. "I just gotta figure out the order I want to play them."

"What did you pick."

He giggles. "You'll see."

Regina's brows arch as Roland looks back to the jukebox, bouncing the nickels carefully in his hand—and she takes that as a sign that she should head back to the table with Robin and Mal.

She grins as she turns back toward the diner, watching Robin and Mal sitting together. They're just talking, but they're sitting closely. Mal's elbow rests on the table, propping up her head, listening as Robin explains something—and when she joins them, their voices halt.

"Did you check on Henry?" Mal asks almost immediately.

"He's getting counseled by Granny."

"I figured," Robin says as she slides in beside him.

"I learned two things eavesdropping," she says, looking between them. "The first is that his biggest concern is people thinking something is odd about the three of us living together, and… well, I think, if anything, the last few months has taught him that that's not actually something people think."

"That's true," Robin says as Mal draws in a breath. "There are several families in our neighborhood who have another adult living with them—be it a sister or a grandmother or…"

"A secret girlfriend?" Mal supplies, raising her eyebrow.

Robin grins. "Maybe. We don't know."

"The point is, for all intents and purposes, our living arrangement doesn't raise any red flags. I'm not delusional. I'm not saying we should be advertising what we are to each other, but I don't want to hide this from people I do care about."

"And we all know that people are far too busy worrying about their own lives to worry about ours."

"Or they _should_ be," Mal adds, shifting a bit uncomfortably. "That doesn't mean they don't wonder."

"But the other thing I picked up on is that Henry wants to be okay with this. He's struggling with it, but I feel like he wants to accept it. I feel like he's trying to accept it."

Mal's brow arches, her head tipping to the side. "Regina, you _feeling_ like that doesn't mean—"

"Well, he admitted he likes you and he likes you living with us."

Robin grins as he looks to Mal, who holds her breath. "He… actually said that?"

Regina nods, looking around briefly before reaching across the table and giving Mal's hand a tight little squeeze. "Which… seems like good progress, considering he found out less than twenty four hours ago."

"And who better to convince him than—"

"I picked a song!" Roland announces as he runs back to the table, Bing Crosby's voice singing the opening lyrics of _Swinging on a Star_ starts to play. "Will you dance with me? Like you did that one time?"

Regina watches as her son reaches for Mal's hand. She didn't know that Mal ever danced with Roland, but the mere thought of it warms her heart and makes her smile.

"Come on, Mal. Please?" Roland gives her hand a little tug and smiles that sweet dimpled smile that's helped him to get his way since he was a toddler. "Just this one song? It's one of my favorites! Please?"

Momentarily, Mal looks back to her and Robin, and then she looks to Roland and nods. "Okay," she says. "Just to the one, though, okay? Our breakfast is probably going to be ready soon."

Roland tugs her hand as she slides from the booth, leading her to an open spot at the center of the room where tables usually are. He holds out his hand and Mal takes it, spinning him before his hand settles on her hip and they start moving in a box step just as the chorus starts to play again.

"Wait. When did—"

"I don't know," she whispers back to Robin, sliding closer to him and resting her head on his shoulder as they watch Roland and Mal dance. The dance doesn't quite match the song, but Roland's enjoying it and so is Mal. He laughs as they dance, and so does she—and for the duration of the song, she looks so carefree. It's such a contrast to her mood the night before or even minutes ago, and when the song ends, Roland throws his arms around her waist, hugging her tightly—then, to everyone's surprise, when _Jingle Bell Rock_ starts to play, Mal lifts him up and swings him down between her legs, before setting him down and carefully leading him through the basic swing step.

She and Robin can't help but laugh and clap, and by the end of the song, she notices Granny and Henry standing at the open kitchen door, holding trays of food.

Granny is completely amused, smiling easily—and then, Mal spins Roland away from her and he starts to do a chicken walk, and even Henry can't help but laugh. And as she watches Henry watching Roland and Mal dance, she can't help but feel that everything is going to work itself out, that everything is going to be just fine.

* * *

 _It's the weekend before Thanksgiving, and though it's not particularly warm, it's a clear sunny day and not at all as cold as it'll soon be._

 _The entire town is in the midst of being transformed from its regular state to its festive (and perhaps obnoxious) display of Christmas decor. All of the store fronts have holiday messages and themes painted on their windows and the same evergreen wreath with its red and gold baubles. The light posts are decorated, too, alternating between red ribbons and silver bells, and all the trees are wound up by colorful lights._

 _The stores on Main Street and just off are putting up their new Christmas displays—and as they pass the toy store on the way to Granny's for an early lunch before officially beginning their Christmas shopping, Roland can't help but slow down to gawk as store employees set up the window. There's a pink and green pogo stick and an electric pinball game that catches his eye, and even though Henry quickly declares himself too old for toys, he can't help but crane his neck for a better look at the board games being set up, nudging Roland and pointing to a Superman game and again at the American Frontier one._

 _Robin grins as he looks to Regina, and he can tell that she's already making mental notes for later on._

" _Ooh, look at that!" Roland exclaims, hitting Henry's arm a bit harder than expected as he points to a silver metal box with a pair of binoculars attached to it. "That looks cool!"_

" _Dream Lite," Henry murmurs, leaning in a little closer before a grin stretches across his lips. "It's a 3-D story book that projects on the wall."_

 _Roland looks enthralled, and then his brow crumbles. "What's that?"_

 _Henry leans in closer. "It's… it's like a projector." Roland looks at him, still confused. "It like… puts pictures up on the wall." Henry sighs as he points to the book. "Look. See the picture?"_

 _Carefully, Roland examines the box, brightening as he looks back at them. "It plays music, too!"_

" _Okay, that is actually really cool," Robin admits, squinting as he tries to read the box._

" _Mom—"_

 _Both boys turn, wide eyed and ready to beg._

" _Ask Santa," Regina says, grinning as she tips up her chin. "He'll be in town after tomorrow."_

 _Roland's eyes roll. "Mom, Santa isn't real. You don't have to pretend."_

" _I refuse to believe that you no longer believe in Santa," Regina says a bit indignantly. "I wholeheartedly refuse."_

 _Henry's eyes narrow and he sighs. "Does that mean we have to go and see Santa still?"_

" _In matching outfits," Regina beams, ignoring her sons' groans. Robin laughs, he can't help it. "I want my Christmas picture."_

" _Mal could take one instead!" Henry says brightly, as he looks to her, his expression falling into a frown at the realization that Mal isn't paying attention to the conversation. Instead, she's looking at the Dream Lite displayed in the window, analyzing it's details and very obviously intrigued by it. For a moment, he watches her, watching as she takes it in as she does anything when her curiosity is piqued. She's cat-like when something first catches her attention, and it's adorable._

" _What?" She turns back to them all with wide, innocent eyes. "What do you need me to do?"_

" _Take a picture of me and Roland—"_

" _Mom makes us every year."_

" _Oh, I could—"_

" _But Santa won't be in it," Regina says, pouting out her bottom lip. "It's always the two of you on Santa's lap." A bit helplessly, she looks to him and then to Mal. "I have a whole box full of them. I love those pictures."_

" _Oh…" Her voice trails off and her face scrunches as her eyes shift to Henry and Roland. "It seems like your mom's heart is set on a department store picture."_

" _Yeah," Henry sighs, doing his best to be as dramatic as possible—and though now isn't the time to point it out, he's very much giving Regina a taste of her own medicine. "Even though they practically torture for us."_

" _Yeah!" Roland echoes, folding his arms off his chest. "That's exactly what it's like! Torture!"_

" _Alright, alright," Robin cuts in, hooking an arm around each boy as his wife bristles. "I'm going to chalk your whininess up to the fact that we haven't fed you today, but now you're teetering on outright rudeness." He gives them each a look and Regina grins gently as her sons exchange glances, each appearing a little guilty—maybe she will get her picture after all. "Come on. Let's go. Granny's holding a table for us and when I called, I told her we'd be there by ten. It's now five after."_

" _So, these photos," Mal says as they all turn away from the toy store and head in the direction of Granny's diner. "They're just… in a box? Just sitting there? All tucked away?"_

" _Mmhmm," Regina says, nodding and looking a bit guilty. "I always say I'm going to frame them, and put them up, but we never really had the wall space at the old house, and as much as I love them, I don't know that I want them up all year."_

" _Or any point in the year," Henry grumbles._

 _Robin sighs as he nudges his son and gives him a warning look. "That made sense, especially when space was limited, but now—"_

 _Henry's eyes widen. "Dad. Those pictures are embarrassing."_

" _Mama, you made us wear antler ears last year—"_

 _Mal grins. "Oh, that's kind of cute."_

" _And big red Rudolph noses," Henry adds, trying not to sound as bitter as he is. "Mom, my friends can't see that! Ever! They'd never stop laughing at me!"_

 _Though he hates to admit it, Henry has a point. Regina loves dressing the boys up for Christmas pictures, and when they were babies, it was adorable. But as they got older, Regina's enthusiasm for the cutesy department store photos didn't let up—and now, he empathizes with his sons._

 _Regina frowns, watching as Mal and Robin exchange a look—already, it seems that Mal empathizes with them, too. "Well, maybe I'll dial it down this year and just have you wear matching sweaters or something boring like that." She laughs as Henry and Roland exchange worried looks, then again, the boys look to him and Mal, their eyes almost pleading. "We have time to figure it out," she says, conceding for the moment. "Right now, I think we should focus on breakfast. I think I want stuffed French toast."_

" _I'm getting blueberry pancakes," Roland announces as they enter the diner, grinning as he looks to Mal. "Those are your favorites, right?"_

" _They are indeed," she confirms. "I'm getting them, too."_

 _Granny waves them to their usual booth—a big circle one in the corner of the diner._

 _Regina takes the boys toward the back to wash their hands while he and Mal slip into the booth, and as soon as Regina is out of sight, Mal's brow cocks. "Really? Red noses?"_

 _He nods. "It was… cute," he tells her, grinning. "They looked like disgruntled little reindeer."_

" _Are the pictures always like that?"_

 _He nods and Mal laughs, shaking her head. "Well, it's good to know that my existence in their lives won't be the only reason they need therapy." Robin frowns, even though her comment was meant to be a lighthearted one—but before he can say anything about it, she grabs a menu, unnecessarily skimming it. "I want a better look at that Dream Lite."_

" _Yeah, they both seemed really into it."_

 _Mal laughs out. "Hell, I was really into it. A projector with music? What a cool idea!" He grins. In that moment, she seems like the Mal he used to know. "I wonder if you can buy different slides and songs, or if you're just stuck with the ones it comes with."_

" _After breakfast, you should go and check it out."_

 _She grins up at him from over the menu. "Are you trying to get rid of me? I thought we were going to the department store."_

 _He laughs. In part, that's exactly what he's trying to do. "Well, the boys seemed to see a lot they liked. Maybe you could take Regina and—"_

" _Oh, I get it," she says, her laugh ringing out. "You're trying to stop Regina from basically camping out in line for pictures with Santa."_

 _Robin leans in, his voice falling to a whisper. "They weren't wrong. Those pictures are like torture for them." He takes a breath, wanting nothing more than to lean the rest of the way in and peck her lips—a soft, innocent, playful little kiss, the sort he and Regina share all of the time. But instead, he leans back. "The boys wanted to do a little shopping anyway, and if their mother wasn't around, watching them like a hawk, it'd probably be a little easier."_

 _Mal's expression softens. "What are they getting her?"_

" _I don't know. I always leave it up to them."_

" _Oh? And how does that turn out?"_

 _He grins, remembering the year Roland picked out a cookbook. "Usually okay. They try to be thoughtful."_

 _Mal clears her throat, looking past him, and he turns to see Regina coming out of the bathroom with the boys. She sighs as Roland asks her something, and then she nods—and as soon as she does, the boys take off running to the counter._

" _It looks like they won't be joining us," Regina says as she slips into the booth beside him._

" _Well, I won't complain about extra leg room," Robin says, leaning back and pushing his arms out around the booth, his fingers touching to each of their shoulders. "I also won't mind not having to share my bacon."_

 _Regina grins and nods, plucking a menu from the center of the table, her eyes scanning the French toast options. "So, what were you guys talking about while I was gone?"_

" _Oh, just a plan for the afternoon," Mal says, looking to her. "You and I are going to the toy store—"_

" _Oh, good! I wanted to get a few games that they were looking at before I forget which ones they liked."_

" _And I am going to take the boys to the department store. They wanted to get a few gifts—something for Granny and Ruby, Belle and your dad—"_

 _Regina's lips press together as she draws in a breath._

 _For the first time since they were married, her father isn't joining them for Thanksgiving—apparently, he was seeing someone and she'd asked him to fly down to Florida with her to meet her grandkids. It was a bit of a sore spot with Regina—yet, at the same time, it was also a relief._

 _Her father didn't know much about Mal, other than that she was a friend of theirs from a long time ago—and even then, he thought their attachment to "their good friend" was a bit odd, constantly asking why she was always around and why no matter where they went Mal seemed to follow. There was no doubt he'd ask questions that they weren't entirely ready to answer._

 _Another—and probably bigger—disappointment was that Belle wouldn't be able to make it either. Initially, it'd been the plan for her to drive up and spend a week, possibly even look at the university while she visited, but her sister, Lacey, had broken up with her boyfriend the week before and now Belle was taking his spot on the Hawaiian vacation she'd planned. When she'd called, her voice was full of regret—but they insisted she go, and she promised to come up for Christmas._

" _So, afterward, I thought we could rendezvous over on Center Street, maybe by the tree lot for some—"_

" _No."_

 _Robin's eyes widen as he looks to Regina. "What? You don't want to meet for some hot cocoa?"_

" _I'm fine with the cocoa, I'm not fine with the tree lot."_

 _Mal's eyes narrow as she looks between them. "Does he still have to find the perfect tree?"_

" _Of course he does—"_

" _What? I want it to look nice! There's nothing wrong with—"_

" _Two years ago, I got a call from the police because he was illegally chopping one down."_

 _Robin's lips press together. He's still annoyed about that. "Look, if the lots aren't going to have nice, full trees, what was I supposed to do?"_

 _Mal grins, stifling the urge to laugh. "Put on some extra ornaments and some fluffy garland and—"_

 _Robin's eyes roll. "All that takes away from the beauty of the tree! I can't, in good conscious—"_

 _Granny sighs loudly as she approaches. "You can always tell when Christmas is coming because Robin Locksley shows up in my diner, waxing poetic about trees."_

" _To be fair," Robin says, his shoulders stiffening in defense. "I don't just like trees at Christmas."_

" _But Christmas is when we've all got to hear about 'em," Granny says, giving him a quick wink. "Are you having your usuals?"_

 _Mal nods and so does he, but Regina shakes her head. "I want stuffed French toast." She grins, looking quite pleased with her decision. "Apple cinnamon."_

" _I still think we should meet at the tree lot."_

 _Mal and Regina both ignore him, shifting the conversation instead to Thanksgiving—and admittedly, that's a better use of their time, considering that they're hosting._

 _Granny and Ruby will be there, so will John and Marian and a few people from their respective jobs with their children. After putting in their orders, Granny comes over to inform them that Henry and Roland have ordered two tall stacks of pancakes—blueberry and chocolate chip, complete with extra glaze for the blueberry and powdered sugar for the chocolate chip._

 _Regina sighs, but nods, and tells Granny to inform them that she'll be cooking dinner that night—a threat they all know is more painful on her than anyone she's trying to punish. Nonetheless, Granny delivers the message, then returns to inform them the glaze and powdered sugar has been cancelled._

 _She slides into the booth beside Mal as they continue talking about Thanksgiving, making plans for what dishes Granny and Ruby will need to bring pre-made and what will be prepared at the house. Once more, Robin makes the offer to provide a fresh turkey that he and John will hunt on Thursday morning, and once more Regina and Mal shoot down the idea, with Granny in firm agreement._

 _Finally, the waitress brings their food and Granny leaves them to eat, joining the boys at the counter and playing games of tic-tac-toe with them between bites._

 _When everyone's full, they go their separate ways, and just before they turn the corner that'll lead them to the department store, Henry stops in at an electronics store, pressing his hands to the glass as he looks at the record players and televisions sets on display._

" _Dad, can we go in?"_

 _Robin's eyes narrow. "As long as you know that we aren't walking out with a television, sure."_

" _I don't want a TV," Henry says, his voice halting as soon as the words leave his mouth. "I mean, I do, but that's not why I want to go in."_

" _Wow," Roland breathes out as he approaches the window, his eyes widened as he watches Rin Tin Tin on the TV screen. "It's so cool."_

" _We're not getting one."_

" _Then can we just stand here and watch the store's TV?"_

 _Robin sighs, Regina's standard "TV will rot their brains and kill their imaginations" lecture playing in his head. "For just a little bit," he murmurs, watching the large German Shepherd on the screen take off running—a detail that makes Roland gasp._

" _I want to get a present for Mal," Henry explains. "I bet they have something in there for her camera."_

 _That draws Roland's eyes away from the screen. "Yeah! Let's get something for Mal." He grins up at Robin. "Maybe we could get her a television set." He nods, as if he's going to convince someone. "She already has lots of stuff for her camera, like lenses and… um… film and...um…" His voice trails off as he fails to come up with something else, and then, he stops trying. "But what she doesn't have is a TV set!"_

 _Robin's eyes narrow. "Ask Santa."_

 _Both boys frown, and Henry sighs. "We can still go in, though, right?"_

 _Robin nods, grinning as he reaches for Roland, scooping him up and putting him on top of his shoulders. "You go look around, Henry," he says. "This one and I are going to be standing here and watching Rin Tin Tin."_

 _Robin watches as Henry walks toward the back of the store, browsing slowly through the camera section. He wanders up and down the aisles, looking at the shelves, every now and then picking up something and putting it back. A salesman wanders over, and he watches Henry talking to him. He looks so grown up and seems so independent—and his chest flutters a bit, almost aching for his sons' younger years when they happily dressed up as snowmen, donning little top hats and carrot noses as they eagerly climbed up onto Santa's lap and told him everything they wanted._

 _Finally, Henry wanders back, holding out two camera straps. Both are fabric with leather ends and brassy clips on each end. The fabric of one looks like a map, brightly colored and soft with white embroidery spelling out the names of the states; and the other, is a cream colored canvas with dark green landmarks on all over, that at a closer look, he can see are various state parks._

" _Which one do you like?" Henry asks, looking up at Roland. "I thought we should get a travel one for her."_

" _Why's that?" Robin asks, handing the straps up to Roland._

" _Because she's always talking about it," Henry explains. "She said she's always wanted to take a big road trip and take pictures of stuff all over the country, then have an exhibit of all her cool photos."_

 _Robin smiles, remembering a day long ago when he, Regina, and Mal laid on the grass in the park and planned a road trip along Route 66. They talked about renting a station wagon and packing coolers, and stopping at every landmark or historical site from the Atlantic to the Pacific. They made lists of their "must sees" and bought maps to plan out their route, and they started shoving spare change into a coffee can to save up for it._

 _Then, Mal disappeared and the hope of that roadtrip disappeared with her._

" _I like the green one," Roland decides, grinning. "It's cooler."_

" _I like that one, too." Roland hands the straps back to Henry and looks back to the TV as Henry flips over the price tag. "Oh… I don't have enough. We only got eleven dollars. This costs eighteen." He sighs and looks up at Robin—and grinning gently, Robin fishes out his wallet and tosses it to him. He always intended to help them pay for the gift, and really, Henry's found something perfect._

 _Henry beams and runs toward the counter to make his purchase as Robin wonders if maybe one day soon, they can make that trip, after all._

* * *

On Christmas morning, she's the first one up, carefully crawling out of bed before the sun's even up to make a pot of coffee. It seems like it takes an eternity to brew and when she finally pours herself a cup, she forgoes sugar, cream, or flavoring, breathing it in and enjoying the warm bitterness.

The night before was… awkward.

But of course, it had been that way for the week or so since Roland and Henry found out who she really was to their parents. Roland didn't seem to care, and she suspected that he didn't fully understand what it meant to be romantically involved. At eight years old, why would he?

But Henry, just two years older did understand, and he was struggling.

And she hated that.

She hated that he felt uncomfortable in his own home, she hated that the foundation of his security was shaken—and she hated that she was the cause of that feeling. It was a feeling she knew well and one she'd never want to ever inflict on anyone, especially not someone she loves.

And she does love Henry—she loves both of Robin and Regina's boys.

She'd always been fond of children; but there was something about these two particular children that made her heart flutter and grow. They were so much like both of their parents—such perfect little blends of them. From the moment she'd been introduced to them, she'd loved them—and she wanted them to love her, too.

Taking a breath, she breathes in her coffee, taking a sip and holding it in her mouth as her eyes press closed.

For a few days now, she'd been mulling the idea of popping in to see Granny. Ruby usually went to see her mother on Christmas and while Granny claimed to like to be alone for the day—arguing quite convincingly that it was her one day off and being alone with a good book and endless tea was her present to herself—she wasn't convinced of it. She could easily pop in for a visit, and if she truly wanted to be alone, she could just go over to her studio, and allow the boys to have a Christmas with their parents and without the awkwardness of her presence.

Granny was never shy about offering up access to the kitchen downstairs, and she was happy in her studio, with her film and her cameras. She'd recently purchased some watercolors that allowed her to create colored images—which was so different from colored film—and she could easily spend a day dabbling with those…

The more she thought about it, the more it sounded like less of an idea and more of a plan.

As she finishes her cup of coffee, she's all but decided—and then, she turns to pour a second cup and finds Roland walking toward her, his eyes still sleepy yet bright.

"Merry Christmas, Mal," he says as a smile edges across his lips. "It snowed more last night, did you see?"

She can't help but grin as she nods. "I did."

"Isn't it pretty?"

"It is," she admits, following his gaze to the window. "Everything's… sparkling."

"I know," he says, going to the window and leaning up onto the tips of his sock-covered toes. "Later on, can we go outside and take pictures?"

She hesitates, not wanting to make a promise she won't keep. "It's… supposed to be awfully cold."

"We can bundle up!" He grins as he turns back to her. "I know my dad got me new mittens and a hat and a scarf." Her brow arches and his eyes widen a little. "I didn't snoop! I swear. He always gets me those things." He shrugs. "He gets us socks and underwear, too."

"Your dad was always good for a practical gift," she says, laughing softly and remembering the year he'd gotten her and Regina several pairs of thick (and incredibly ugly) woolen socks because the Farmer's Almanac claimed the winter would be particularly snowy and on the same day, he'd read an embellished little story about frostbite in the Reader's Digest. "Does Henry get the same thing?"

"Yeah," Roland says, nodding as he moves to the counter and climbs up onto a stool. "Just in a different color. He accidentally showed me Henry's. He got red and gray, so mine are probably green and gray. Or maybe blue."

She takes a breath, ready to offer up the excuse of not wanting Granny to spend Christmas alone. There was once a time when she was so good at this—at disappearing—but, as Roland smiles up at her, his big brown eyes wide and expectant, she struggles to find her words—and then, when he bats his long eyelashes at her and bites down on his lip, her words are all but forgotten. Sighing, she smiles—she can't help it. He's impossibly cute and uses that to his advantage.

"So can we?" He asks, practically squirming as he waits for an answer. "Please say yes, Mal." His smile brightens and turns a bit coy. "It's Christmas, you can't say no."

Her brow arches and she girns. "Is that how that works?"

"Uh huh."

In spite of herself, she laughs and finds herself nodding. But before she can agree, she hears footsteps on the stairs, and momentarily, both her attention and Roland's shifts to the stairs. Her stomach flops as she sees Henry first. He offers her an awkward little grin and a wave as he wipes at his eyes. Robin and Regina trail behind him, looking groggy as ever.

"Good morning," she says, her greeting feeling a bit uncomfortable as her eyes fix on Henry.

"Merry Christmas," he murmurs back, his words broken up by a yawn.

Her stomach churns again as Robin reaches her, leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. "When did you get up?"

"Oh, just a bit ago," she tells him, motioning to the coffee maker. "I figured we could all use a cup first thing."

"Mm, _we_ certain can," Regina says, pointing to herself as she moves toward the coffee pot, brushing a fleeting kiss against her cheek as she passes—and all the while, Mal's eyes stay on Henry, watching as he watches them, his eyes narrow, but not looking particularly bothered. Robin and Regina pour cups of coffee for themselves and she can't help but grin as Robin's arm slides around Regina's waist, holding her as she takes that first sip of coffee, breathing it in as a lazy smile edges onto her lips and her head falls to Robin's shoulder as she swallows it. "There's just something about coffee before sunrise on Christmas morning ," she sighs, looking considerably happier to be awake than she did just a few minutes before.

"Perhaps it's the pumpkin pie spice that's in it."

Regina grins, but Robin's brows arch as he sniffs it. "That's what that is," he says, taking a quick sip as a lopsided little grin tugs up at the corner of his mouth, his eyes shifting to his sons. "See? This is an example of why we can't help but love her."

"Well, I'm glad my coffee-making skills have finally gotten me somewhere," she replies, smirking softly as Robin looks back to her.

He offers her a quick wink before pressing a quick kiss to Regina's cheek and turning his attention to Henry and Roland, his eyes widening as they fill with excitement. "And now that I have some coffee to keep me awake, who's ready to open presents?" Taking a long sip of his coffee, he sets the cup down on the counter and rushes toward them. He hooks an arm around Henry first, pulling him to his side before scooping up Roland underneath his arm. Regina laughs as he drags Henry along while Roland laughs out in amusement as they disappear into the family room.

"Come on," Regina says, grabbing hold of her hand. "They won't want to wait and Robin won't make them."

It only takes them a minute to join Robin and the boys in the family room, but already the tree's aglow and the boys are sorting presents into piles while Robin tries to get a fire going.

"I was sort of worried about this Christmas," Regina admits.

"Oh?" Again, she feels her stomach flop—she's still incredibly worried about it. "Why?"

"Well, with neither of them believing in Santa, I… I thought the excitement might be gone." She and Regina both grin as they watch Henry lift a box and give it a little shake, his eyes bright as he bites down on his lip and looks to Roland who is watching eagerly. Henry offers him a little nod and Roland beams—and she wonders if they've talked about what they think each of the gifts are, and if they have, she wonders how many they've managed to figure out. "And though it might've been nice to sleep in until… you know… the sun came up or something, I… I would've missed this." Regina grins as she looks back to her. "But it seems like the magic's still there."

Mal nods as she looks to them. She has nothing to compare it to, but both boys look bright-eyed and happy in their matching pajamas.

"Okay, everything's sorted!" Roland announces as he gets to his feet.

Robin smirks. "If by everything you mean your gifts and your brother's."

"Well, to be fair, the bulk of those gifts are theirs," Regina says, moving toward the tree, holding on to Mal's hand as long as possible before letting it drop as she reaches for Roland, combing her fingers through his messy hair before pulling him to her and bending to press a kiss to the top of his head. "It's your brother's turn to go first. Be patient," she tells him in a loud whisper.

"Roland can go first," Henry says as she sits down on the couch, his head falling back against the cushion. "I don't mind."

"You sure?"

Henry nods as he climbs up onto the couch beside her. "I mean, with the exception of the socks and underwear that dad gets us, his gifts are my gifts." He grins as if he's discovered some sort of wonderful loophole. "He gets to do the work of opening up everything and I can just… sit back and see what I got."

"So, I can open all of them?" Roland asks, his eyes widening.

"Well, I didn't say that—"

"Nor do we have the time for that," Regina says, looking pointedly at Roland.

"Roland opens gifts at a glacial pace," Robin informs her. "He… likes to save the paper."

"And the bows. And the boxes. And probably the tape," Henry adds.

Roland frowns. "I like to keep it and make stuff."

Regina's eyes roll. "And I'll be picking up pretty paper airplanes until spring."

"It seems perfectly practical to me," Mal admits. "Christmas paper is always so pretty."

"Don't encourage him," Regina sighs as Robin chuckles and reaches for a wrapped box in Roland's pile. "Okay, here goes…"

Just as promised, Roland opens the box in a way that's almost painful to watch. His little fingers slip slowly underneath the taped seams. Once the paper's loosened, he works at the bow and she cringes—had she known this was how Roland was with presents, she'd have made less elaborate bows and wouldn't have done a second layer of tissue paper beneath the wrapping paper, and there'd definitely have been less tape involved.

Next year, she finds herself thinking…

Henry sighs, tipping his head to the side as he continues to watch Roland unwrapping the gift, watching him remove the pretty silver metallic paper covered in bright green Christmas trees and neatly fold it before beginning to unwrap the layer of tissue paper.

Her stomach knots as she looks to him. "You're a good brother," she tells him, her voice just louder than a whisper yet filled with earnest sentiment—Henry knew this was coming and still allowed his little brother to open the first gift. He could've easily taken his turn and opened something that'd have given his something to entertain himself with while he waited for Roland to take his turn.

"He really loves going first."

"Still—"

Henry grins, and nods to the tripod they'd all set up the night before. "You might need more film though, unless you want a million pictures of Roland opening up the same present."

She nods. "I… should adjust the timer, shouldn't I?"

Chewing at his lip, Henry looks hesitant. Then, drawing in a breath, he asks, "Can you show me?"

"Of course," she's quick to say, trying to hide her excitement. It's a small victory, but it's the first thing that Henry's asked of her since he found out about the nature of her relationship with his parents. In fact, it might be the first time he's initiated conversation with her since then, too—and it feels like she won the damn lottery. "Come on," she says, edging off of the couch. "Let's do it now before I forget."

Henry nods and follows her to the camera. He stands on an ottoman and watches as she points out the dial that adjusts the timer. She lets him turn it and he smiles as it clicks into place—and she feels so relieved when he asks more questions about the camera. He asks how many exposures the roll of film has on it and whether or not some rolls have more or less. He asks if the timer can be interrupted if you want to take a picture between the timed shots and he asks a bunch of questions about angles. He wants to know why it's at the height that it is, why it's positioned the way it is, and how she knew what corner it'd be best in—and she answers them all, in probably more detail than necessary. But Henry seems interested, watching her as she explains and listening intently, and when she finishes, he grins at her.

"Thanks for showing me," he tells her, looking a bit sheepish, but not uncomfortable. "It's… cool that you know so much about taking pictures."

"Thanks for asking," she tells him. "It's… always fun to share something I'm really passionate about."

"Yeah," he murmurs, looking back to Roland, craning his neck to see that he only has one more end to open.

"You know, it's… it's okay to be unsure about me," she tells him, her voice barely audible, low enough that Robin, Regina and Roland can't hear, but Henry certainly can. "It's okay to think this whole thing with your parents and I is…"

"I'm not unsure about you," he says, biting down on his lip. "I just… it's… it's kinda weird."

She nods. "I'm sure it is for you."

"Granny says everyone's a little weird though."

She grins. "Granny would say something like that."

"She said it'd be boring if all families were completely alike." He pauses, considering it. "Like, my mom has a job. Most of my friends' moms don't." He takes a breath, looking to Roland momentarily and rolling his eyes at his lack of progress. "I bet some people think that's weird."

"Maybe they do."

"But there's nothing wrong with my mom having a job. She's good at it and she worked hard to have it."

"She did," Mal admits. "I was a witness to that. She worked _incredibly_ hard."

"Yeah, so she should get to have her job."

"I wholeheartedly agree."

"One of my friends has parents who are divorced."

She swallows. "Are you worried about that? Because of me?"

Henry looks to Robin and Regina, and her eyes follow. She grins at them, sitting on the floor, curled around each other as they watch Roland.

"Not really," Henry admits, looking back to her, and forcing her to look back to him. "It's just… that's something that makes that family different."

"Different," Mal murmurs. "Is that the same as weird?"

Henry nods, but before he can say anymore, Roland lets out a little yelp, drawing everyone's attention to him.

"Henry! Look! It's the Superman game from the toy store!" Roland says, holding up the game as he looks to his brother, brimming with excitement that's nearly palpable. "It's the one we wanted!"

"Cool!" Henry says, looking to Mal and grinning again before reaching out and pressing the button she'd pointed out on the camera just a couple of minutes before, taking a candid shot of his brother's excited face. Then, he grabs her hand and hops off the ottoman. "Pick a present out for me to open!"

She watches as Roland picks out a box from Henry's pile and Henry goes to sit by him, crossed legged as he accepts the gift wrapped in pretty blue and white striped paper _._

"Hey…" She looks over to Robin and Regina. "Come and sit with us," Regina says.

She hesitates, but nods, joining them—and almost immediately, Robin's arm curls around her shoulders as her head instinctively falls to his shoulder.

"Oh my gosh," Henry explains, holding up the box. "It's the Dream Lite!" She grins—she picked that one out the morning that she and Regina went shopping together. "This is so cool! All my friends wanted it!"

Rolands leans in for a look. "There's a sold out sign at the toy store," he tells Henry.

"I know," Henry beams, looking to them, his eyes quickly falling to her as Regina points to her. "Thank you!" he says, offering a grateful smile before looking back at the box, his heart skipping a beat as he pulls off the rest of the paper, flipping it over and reading the back. "I can't wait to try this."

"Um… it might be going out of order," Mal says, "But there's something that goes with it. It's… the blue bag with the snowflake paper sticking out of it."

Roland grabs it and hands it to Henry. "You should open a second gift, since I got to open the first one." He grins, and hands the bag to Henry. Her heart beats a little faster as she watches Henry pull the paper from the bag to find the extra slides and music cartridges.

Feeling a bit overwhelmed, she watches as Henry carefully reads them all as Roland picks up another gift. She loses herself in it for awhile, watching the boys open up their presents, reacting each time with surprised excitement. It catches her off guard when they get up, still with several presents to open and select three of the packages still beneath the tree.

"You guys should open some," Roland decides, as the boys pass them each a gift.

She holds her breath, watching as Robin digs into a bag, containing a tissue-wrapped present. His eyes glisten with tears as he turns it to face Regina, revealing a collage of prints from the summer before. Three are of the boys—them splashing in the lake, eating popsicles on the dock, and asleep in the sand. The other two are from the same day, one of the three of them all in big sun hats, and another of them with the boys, ready to eat lunch at a picnic table in front of the little lake house. His eyes fall to Mal just before he presses a kiss to her cheek—something that goes almost unnoticed by everyone else as if it's perfectly normal, maybe even expected.

Regina's next, and it's another of her gifts.

And as soon as Regina lifts the photo album from the box, she's in tears.

"Robin helped with this one," she explains as Regina opens the album to see all of her beloved pictures of the boys, posed with a department store Santa. Regina laughs out in a burst when she flips to the last photograph—a picture of her sons, tangled in garland and wearing matching sweaters and Santa hats, frowning on Santa's lap as the old man looks perplexed. "Oh my god—"

"He was a good sport," Robin says, chuckling.

"This is… fantastic." She looks to the boys. "Thank you for doing this."

Roland beams. "We got cupcakes after."

Both she and Robin offer guilty smiles and shrugs, but Regina's far too touched to be bothered by their blatant bribery.

"You next, Mal," Roland says, pointing at the box they gave her—and she can't help but notice the way that Henry perks up. Biting down on her lip, she looks at the tag— _From Henry and Roland_ —it reads.

"Henry picked it," Roland says before she even has the paper off.

"But Roland helped pay for it," Henry says. "Well, and Dad. Dad paid for most of it."

"It's the thought that counts," Mal says, as she tears off the paper—carefully, but quickly—as she hands it off to Roland, who promptly smooths it out and folds it as she opens up the box. Her eyes fill with tears as she stares down at a canvas colored camera strap. It has dark green little mountains and tents and bears, and all sorts of other things embroidered on it, leather sewn onto the ends with two brassy clips on the ends of the leather. There's another piece of leather that slides on the strap with a piece of green fabric sewn into it, meant to support the neck. "Oh my—"

"We thought you'd like it," Henry explains. "It… has a bunch of landmarks on it, from the state parks."

"Yeah. From along Route 66."

"Since you always talk about driving out west." She grins, nodding and unable to find her words as she looks to Roland and Henry. "Do you like it?"

She offers a teary smile as she nods. "I love it," she tells him. "It's… it's perfect. Thank you."

Robin hugs her into his side and Regina reaches over to squeeze her hand—and still, she can't quite put into words how she feels. She hadn't expected anything from the boys, especially not something so thoughtful.

It seemed silly to say—especially from someone who'd grown up as an only child in an incredibly wealthy family, a child who'd been showered with gifts—but there were so few people who knew her well enough to give a thoughtful gift, who cared enough to listen and find something meaningful. And now, she found herself surrounded by those people, and that was such an overwhelming, but wonderful feeling.

"You're next, Henry," Roland says, griping at his brother. "Open something!"

"Maybe you could both open something," Regina suggests.

"Or Roland could open one thing while Henry opens four."

Everyone laughs, even Roland. Henry picks a big box that she knows to be an electric pinball game, while Roland selects a thin, little one that's old Marvel comics Robin picked up at a used book sale while they waited for Regina to finish turning in her book list for the winter semester.

Roland brings the box over to them and crawls into her lap, leaning back against them as he begins the situation of opening the gift—and in that moment, the camera clicks and flashes, capturing what could only be viewed as a family on Christmas morning.

And though it might seem silly to anyone else, it chokes her up and makes her heart feel full.

* * *

 _Even the thought of her hosting Thanksgiving dinner was a laughable one—yet here she was doing just that._

 _But of course, she wasn't actually doing much more than offering up her house and keeping the kids out of the way. Robin and Mal were doing most of the work—and had been for the better part of the week—with some help from Ruby and Granny. It seemed that nearly everything in the refrigerator was something that was prepped to be made for thanksgiving, and before they went to bed the night before, Mal lined up all the pies she'd made to cool on the counter overnight._

 _Granny and Ruby supplied some sides—a bean salad that was always a hit, buttered rolls, cornbread, and some sort of apple dish that she'd likely eat entirely on her own—and that morning, they'd arrived bright and early to help stuff the turkey. Sadly, for Robin, it was of the store-bought variety._

 _It was right around then that she'd been banned from the kitchen, leaving her with tasks like folding napkins around silverware and tying them up with little ribbons. She did that for what felt like hours, earning a raised brow from both of her sons as they pointed out that that was something Granny usually had them do. She'd rolled her eyes and handed them a basket, letting them neatly arrange them while she put out the placemats._

 _Setting the table was easy enough—though she had no idea if the silverware was actually where it should be—and by the time she finished that, Mal was joining her with little jars of wildflowers for the long table that had overtaken the living room._

 _She helped her space them on the table, grinning as Mal set out little paper maple leafs bearing everyone's name._

 _It seemed like Mal was in her glory._

 _She'd always been social, in an odd sort of way._

 _When she and Robin met Mal, it was at a party, and they soon realized that was simply her scene—everyone seemed to know and like her, and she easily mingled and made small-talk. It seemed like she had friends no matter where they went. But they soon learned that that was simply the way she was raised—to be accommodating and interested, to always consider everyone else and make those around her feel important. None of them were truly friends, how could they be, she'd wondered, if they didn't truly know her?_

 _But this was different._

 _This wasn't like the parties her parents hosted when she was a girl. Though it was a relatively small group, no one was a mere acquaintance. In addition to Granny and Ruby, John and Marian would be coming, too. Archie and his partner, Marco, David Nolan—who worked with her in the law department at the university—and his wife Mary Margaret, and their neighbors, Lance, Gwen, and Gwen's sister, Aria, from down the street. Henry and Roland were excited that there would be other kids around to play with—Auggie and Violet obviously, and the Nolans' daughter, Emma, who was just a year older than Roland as well as their toddler aged son, Neal. Mal had set up games and crafts for them all in the family room, and she'd set up a separate table there where the kids could eat and socialize. She was completely in her element and comfortable, and brimming with excitement..._

 _John and Marian were the first to arrive. Marian greeted them all with hugs, and John with gruff smiles. He was still uncomfortable with Mal, but he was trying and in all the times they'd seen each other since that summer day when he and Marian dropped the boys off at Mal's cottage, he'd been making an effort. Soon after their arrival, the neighbors arrive with a big bowl of cranberry relish and a tray of candied yams, and Auggie launching into an unnecessary, but endearing story about how his aunt's name is actually Arthuretta, but she hates it, so she goes by Aria._

 _She grins as Henry greets Violet, his cheeks flushing a bit as he rambles through all the options for their amusement, and he brightens when she says she wants to go into the backyard and look for leaves to press—and Regina suspects that would've been her son's expression no matter what the girl chose. Roland and Auggie go out with them, playing on the tire swing instead of looking for leaves, while the adults all settle in. The Nolans arrive next, bringing with them a big pan of roasted Brussels sprouts, their shy little girl and rambunctious little boy—who almost immediately steals Henry's attention from Violet._

 _By the time Archie and Marco arrive—a bit late thanks to a green bean casserole that just wouldn't brown and a dalmation that refused to come inside—they're ready to eat, and Mal beams as the dinner goes off without a hitch._

 _The conversation stays light and the plates stay full, and just before dessert is served, another bottle of wine is opened and poured into everyone's glasses._

 _The kids keep themselves entertained and Regina can't help but grin at Henry as he plays with little Neal, the just-barely-two year old boy who sits on his lap all through dinner._

 _The adults all wander around the dessert table, picking between a selection of pies as Mal encourages everyone to take two slices—and Regina does, choosing both the Dutch apple and traditional apple, each getting a huge dollop of whipped cream. And the fact that she doesn't turn it down is an indication that she's likely had more wine than she should._

" _I feel like we haven't talked all day," she says, stealing a seat beside Ruby._

" _That's because we haven't," Ruby tells her, smirking. "I was in the kitchen before everyone arrived—"_

 _Regina nods. "And I'm not allowed in there."_

" _For good reason, I hear."_

 _She sighs, but nods. "It's for the best."_

 _Ruby's eyes narrow. "I think I burned water once."_

" _That's not possible."_

" _What else would you call it when the water you were heating goes away and all that's left is a dark little ring at the bottom of the pan?"_

 _Ruby laughs. "Oh no—"_

" _Honestly, I hired a law student simply to make me coffee every day, under the guise of having a real job of being our assistant." She sighs. "It turned out she was brilliant, and I felt terrible about the whole thing."_

" _Did she still make your coffee?"_

" _Every morning," Regina sighs. "I miss her. I'm stuck with instant now when I'm at the university."_

" _You could always put in an order from the diner—"_

 _Regina nods and sighs, she's considered that, as pathetic as it is. "But then I'd have to go and get it." And then her head tips to the side as she thinks of the ever-single Belle. "You know," she begins. "I think you'd like her."_

" _Would I? I don't seem to be able to keep too many friends who are girls… or, well, friends who are boys, either," she says, frowning. "My problem with women is that they all think I want to date them and the problem with the men is they realize that I don't want to date them."_

 _Regina nods, considering it. "Well, the good news there is that while Belle doesn't often go on dates, when she does, she dates women."_

 _Ruby perks up. "Really?"_

 _Regina smirks. "She's cute, too."_

" _Do you have a picture?"_

" _I'm pretty sure that I do," Regina says, grabbing Ruby's hand and abandoning her pie. "Let's see."_

 _She describes her as they go upstairs—petite, reddish brown and wavy hair, gorgeous blue eyes. "The picture won't do her justice," Regina says, leading her into the office where Robin usually works._

" _Well, this is adorable," Ruby says, pointing to an old photo on the desk of her, Robin, and Mal all dressed up for a party years ago._

" _Your grandmother took that." She grins, remembering that night. "And I'm glad. We don't have many pictures of the three of us from that time—"_

" _Which is a shame, considering Mal's interest in photography."_

" _She was careful," Regina says, sadness overtaking her voice momentarily as she scans the albums on the shelf. "Ah ha! It'd be in this one." Ruby joins her, peering over her shoulder as she finds a picture of Belle, sitting at her desk in the old office, smiling sweetly. "That's Belle."_

" _Oh, wow…"_

" _Pretty, huh?"_

" _Gorgeous."_

" _She was supposed to come tonight—"_

" _Why didn't she?"_

" _She went to Hawaii with Lacey—" Regina stops when Ruby sighs. "That's her twin." Ruby's cheeks flush, embarrassed. "She's coming up for Christmas. She's going to spend a couple weeks with us."_

 _Ruby considers it, but hesitates. "You… think she'd… be interested in me?"_

 _Regina blinks. "Have you seen yourself?"_

 _Ruby flushes again, but nods. "I mean… I'd be interested in meeting her."_

" _I'll set something up." Regina can't help but smile as Ruby takes another look at the picture, grinning at it as she bites down on her lip. "Come on. Let's go back downstairs and I'll tell you more about her… and eat my pie because I'm rarely tipsy enough to let myself have two slices."_

 _Together, they go downstairs—and almost immediately, she notices Mal, sitting at the table with John, David, Aria, and Robin, deep in a conversation and holding Robin's hand beneath the table. She smiles as she watches Mal's thumb brush over Robin's wrist._

 _It's been a long time since she's seemed this comfortable._

* * *

On a whim, they decide to go ice skating after dinner at Granny's.

Though the boys have been out of school for less than a week, but already they're going stir crazy and practically bouncing off the walls. It's late, but he can't find a reason to say no—at least ice skating will give them a chance to burn off some energy, and with any luck, they might finally sleep past seven.

They pull up to the lot, and there are only a few cars scattered in spaces—it's either a bad sign or good sign.

As soon as the car is parked, the boys open up the passenger doors and take off running to the rink's front entrance, their new knit scarves flying behind them.

"It's closed!" Roland yells out.

"Yeah! Til January!" Henry adds. "I guess they closed up for the holidays."

"Well that's silly," Regina sighs. "I get closing because it's late, but for the whole rest of the month? While schools out?"

"Seems they'll lose a lot of money this way," Mal adds, frowning as she looks to the boys who are now walking back to the car. "They look so disappointed."

"I am, too," he admits—a memory sparking and small laugh bubbling out of him. "Hey, do you remember that time when we went skating?"

Regina grins. "Didn't you break in?"

"He did," Mal laughs. "He left all the money from is pocket on the the counter so that it wasn't technically stealing."

"It wasn't," he says, grinning. "And it wouldn't be if we did it this time."

"Robin, you can't be serious—"

"We can't just go in."

"Sure we can!" He says getting out of the car. "We're not harming anything and it's not like we'd keep the skates. Besides, we'll pay for everything we use."

"So this place being closed is just a technicality?" Mal asks, her brow arching.

He grins. "Exactly."

He can hear Regina protesting as he jogs toward the boys. He ignores her and he can hear Mal laughing as the car door slams.

He scoops up Roland and takes Henry by the hand. "Ready for an adventure?"

"What kind of adventure?"

"Yeah, Dad," Henry echoes. "What are we gonna do?"

"Ice skate!"

Henry blinks. "But it's closed."

"Til January," Roland sighs.

A coy grin edges over his lips as Mal and Regina join them—Mal looks amused and Regina looks pissed.

He hesitates for a moment, wondering if perhaps breaking into an ice rink with this family is a bad idea—then he looks to his sons, both wide eyed and adorable in their new matching hats, mittens and scarves.

"Do either of you have a Bobby pin?"

Regina folds her arms, but Mal reaches into her hair, pulling out a pin and quickly offering it to him.

"This is just like Casino Royals," Henry whispers as he cranes his neck.

"Regina, I really doubt Kristof will mind," Mal says, nudging Regina's arm. "Remember when his grandpa owned it?"

He grins. Mal was with him helping to fix a leaky pipe in Granny's kitchen when the old man came in, telling Granny what he called "a peculiar story." He laughed—a real ache that rose up from the depths of his belly—as he explained someone broke into the rink and overpaid.

Her brow arched up as she looked back to the kitchen where he and Mal were working, giving him a knowing look as she told Sven she believed she knew his generous thief—and he was no other than the thief who stole desserts, soft drinks, and whatever looked like it might soon reach its expiration.

Robin offered a sheepish grin as he emerged from the kitchen, and the moment he mentioned his girlfriend, the old man laughed again as he looked to Mal, doubly amused, admitting he'd done far more foolish things to impress a pretty girl.

"No harm, no foul," Robin says, quoting the old man.

"And everyone says Kris is just like him," Mal says.

Regina's eyes narrow as he sticks the pin into the lock. "And how do you know that?"

"Granny."

"Granny knows everything," Roland says.

"And everyone," Henry adds.

"Look, I'll give Kris a call tonight and explain everything," Robin says as he pushes the door open. "He owes me one. He won't care."

"He owes you?"

Robin grins and nods, but explains no more, not really wanting to admit he's been giving out free legal advice in addition to the pro bono work he does for his usual job—and given the way she rolls her eyes, he suspects she already knows.

"Come on," he says, taking both boys by the hand and leading them in. "Let's get some skates!"

The boys eagerly pick out their sizes and kick off their boots, lacing them up as he and Mal grab skates. He can't help but laugh as Regina grabs a pair, huffing as she slips off her shoes.

But by the time they reach the ice, she's smiling and laughing with the rest of them.

Robin glides backward, pulling Regina along with him, weaving all over the ice. When they reach the far end of the ice he pulls her to him and spins her around, pulling her back again to quickly steal a kiss.

Mal teaches the boys how to do a few compulsory figures _._ The figure eight seems to be the one they like best, each time trying to make a bigger and better figure _and_ out do the other—and eventually, she backs away, leaving them to them to their little competition while she joins him and Regina.

For awhile the three of them skate a bit aimlessly, lazily gliding along as they keep their eyes on the boys.

"When did you learn to do all those turns?" Regina asks, looking to Mal. "I always knew you could skate well, but I didn't know you could… do… um, other things." Her brow furrows and she laughs at the way the sentence fell apart. "You know what I mean."

"I had private lessons when I was little." Laughing softly, she looks to them. "I used to pretend I was Sonja Henie."

Regina grins, but he blinks. "Should I know who that is?"

"She was an Olympic skater from… Sweden? Norway?"

"Norway," Mal confirms. "A three time gold medalist."

"Oh—"

"I assume this was before all the controversy?"

"Long before—"

Robin's brow furrows. "I… am not following this conversation at all."

Mal and Regina both laugh before launching into a story about the talented figure skater turned film star who gave the Nazi salute during Opening Ceremony the 1936 Olymics in Berlin, her final competiton. In truth, he doesn't listen to the whole story, but that last bit catches his curiosity.

"Is that why you stopped lessons?"

"No," Mal say, half scoffing and half smiling. "Though, that's what my father would say if you asked him." Her eyes roll. "My lessons ended the year before that because my instructor was sleeping with my mother. I caught them a few times."

"Oh my—"

"Truly, I didn't mind. I liked when he was around. I liked skating and my mother was… well… on her best behavior." She shrugged. "Besides that, I figured if my father could have his affairs, why couldn't she?" Laughing, she spins around them. "According to my father, that's where my troubles began."

He and Regina exchange looks. "You… told him about the affair?"

"No, but I defended my mother—"

A grin curls up at the corners of Regina's mouth. "And then once used that same logic for yourself."

Nodding, she grins. "By far one of the best decisions I've made… even if I did second guess it a hundred thousand times."

"Well, obviously you made the right choice," Regina says, her voice a bit cheeky as she grins. "Your mother, I don't know; but, you—you most definitely made the right choice."

Mal nods, grinning as she momentarily looks around, her eyes falling to Henry and Roland who are now simply chasing each other around the ice, before looking back to them. "I never imagined it would be like this, though."

His head tips to the side—at first, he's ready to make some sort of smart ass comment about his sons' antics, but her eyes look watery, and though she's smiling, there's a somberness about her look. "What do you mean?" he asks instead.

"I just… I never thought it could work out like it has," she admits. "I… thought you'd get married and lose interest or not deem this sort of thing appropriate or… it'd just be too messy to continue on with… or… something." She shrugs as she looks between them, grinning as tears brim in her eyes. "At best, I thought I might be demoted back to a friend who maybe shared your bed sometime, and if I was _truly_ lucky, in addition to that, Stefan would've left me for Rose and I could've lived happily ever after as a quirky old spinster."

He pulls her in a bit, drawing her closer as Regina reaches for her hand. A little laugh escapes her and her smile brightens as she gives each of their hands a little squeeze. "I just… I never thought I'd have this. As complicated as it is and as messy as it might be, these last few months have been better than anything I could've wanted." Biting down on her lip, she shakes her head. "I can't believe how lucky I am."

It amazes him that, after everything she's been through, she considers herself to be lucky. Her happiness isn't a fortunate stroke of luck, but something that's deserved. She deserves to be loved. She deserves to be happy. She deserves a family that cares about her and wants her around, a family that appreciates her and all of her quirks.

He thinks to pull her in for a kiss, but Regina beats him to it. They share a couple of quick, sweet kisses before it's his turn—then, without warning, Mal pulls back, still holding their hands as she starts to spin them. He laughs out as they gain speed, his head growing dizzier and dizzier as they spin. Finally she stops, abruptly, and he and Regina fall toward her, laughing hysterically as she catches them.

She's not the only one who never really thought about getting here—to a moment like this one. He and Regina never really let themselves think ahead because in nearly every scenario, there was a point when they'd lose her. They couldn't have imagined it'd be as terrible as it was—especially on her end, not necessarily theirs—but the thought of what they had now seemed so impossible. And by no means was it easy to be where they were—it took work, and not just the work of a relationship. Keeping an open secret like theirs was hard; there were a lot of factors they couldn't control, people who couldn't know, and balancing it all was rough.

But as challenging as it was, it was so, _so_ rewarding—he only wished they'd dared to do it sooner.

* * *

 _It was rare that the boys had plans that did not include at least one of them, but after Thanksgiving, John and Marian asked if they could take the boys for the rest of the weekend. He didn't need to do it—he and Marian had been taking the boys since they were toddlers—but John made quite the sales pitch._

 _Since the weather was still nice, there was lots to do—his pumpkin patch had been particularly bountiful this year and there were still several. They boys could carve them, pick some for pies, or use them as target practice—he didn't care, as long as they had fun with them. They were also dog sitting for the "neighbors" down the road, had a new dock put in that summer that was just begging to be fished from, and he'd purchased a bunch of scrap wood to turn into birdhouses. He and Marian recently purchased a television set—after all, winters that far north were rough—and he'd already jotted down a few notes of shows the boys would probably like to watch. Marian chimed in then, promising to keep that limited, and reminding them that there were lots of other things that could occupy the boys._

 _Then, a bit sheepishly, he added that he was sure the three of them could use a little break and some time alone together to do "whatever together."_

 _And by the end of it, she was almost certain that Robin was going to ask to go too—and he might have, had it not been for that little innuendo at the end._

 _So, after dinner, she and Marian went upstairs and packed a bag for each boy—and then, they were on their way, promising to return them at some point on Sunday afternoon._

 _They'd been too lazy to do much of anything Thursday night. By the time the house was empty, cleaning had been enough of a struggle, so they'd celebrated by simply allowing themselves to go to bed._

 _Friday morning is completely different..._

 _Of the three of them, Regina is the first to wake. She isn't entirely sure what it is about that particular morning—other than the obvious in that they have the whole house to themselves and didn't need to worry about being too loud or having to stop in the middle of everything because one of the kids needed his oatmeal—but she wakes up craving them._

 _She rolls onto her side and watches them both, each sleeping soundly. For awhile, she just lays there, thinking of all the things they could be doing instead of sleeping. Her hand slips into her shorts, two fingers rubbing at her clit as her little fantasies grow dirtier and dirtier._

 _Robin is between them—stretched out with his head turned toward Mal, the blanket bunched up at his feet—and she grins as her hand slips underneath the covers. He was always easy in these sorts of situations, and as her hand slides into the opening on the front of his boxers, she finds that his cock is already stiff and nearly ready to go._

 _Slowly, she works her hand over him, pumping him through her fist, grinning as he groans in his sleep._

 _She reaches into the drawer at the bedside for a condom before edging a bit closer, leaning in and brushing her lips over his, kissing him awake—and when his eyes flutter open, he smiles. A bit groggily and a bit lazily, he leans in to kiss her properly, moaning as her hand moved a bit faster as it worked up and down his shaft, eventually rolling on the condom._

" _This was quite a nice wake up," he murmurs, barely pulling himself away from her. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to butter me up for something. What better way to get me to agree to something than by waking me up with a handjob?"_

" _Who says I don't want something?"_

 _He laughs. "I knew it."_

" _I think you'll appreciate it, though," she tells him, her lips fluttering just over his as she looks up at him. "I want you to fuck me," she adds, her voice lower and huskier._

 _She rolls away from him and reaches down to pull off her top before kicking down the covers and pulling off her shorts. He wastes no time getting himself undressed and rolling onto her and, then just before sliding into her, he looks over at Mal._

" _We're going to wake her up."_

" _I doubt she'll mind," Regina says, smirking as she looks to Mal, sleeping and completely unaware of what is happening right beside her. "And once she's awake, she can come play, too."_

 _Robin chuckles softly and nods before drawing in a breath and pushing himself into her. He slides himself all the way in, then pulls back, going slowly for a couple of minutes and then as she whines for more, he starts thrusting harder and harder._

 _And just as expected, Mal wakes up after just a couple of minutes. A smile curls onto her lips before her eyes are even open. She rolls onto her side, lifting her nightgown off and fingering herself as she watches them._

" _Come here. Kiss me," Regina murmurs, breathless as she reaches for her. "I want to taste you."_

 _Mal rolls toward her, kissing her as she hovers over her, her small breasts just barely pressed against Regina's side—and she grins as Robin's hips moved a bit faster, fucking her harder as he watches them kiss._

 _Eventually, she finds herself between Mal's legs with Robin fucking her from behind until they're all spent and in need of a little nap._

 _For the rest of the morning, they stay in bed, kissing and touching between naps. Then finally, around noon, they'd get up, deciding that it's finally time to start the day. They clean themselves up and go for a quick lunch at Granny's—and then, once lunch is over, they wander toward the department store to do some shopping._

 _They get some necessities—new kitchen towels and wash rags, a few sets of new flannel sheets for the boys' beds, and a thick down comforter for their own bed. Robin stocks up on socks for everyone one while she and Mal find new boots for the boys._

 _When Robin returns to them, he's beaming._

" _I found the best scarf-hat-mitten sets," he explains._

 _She and Mal exchange looks, not wanting to tell him that anything like that sold as a "set" likely isn't all that great. But nonetheless, they eagerly follow him and to their surprise, what he's picked out isn't so bad. The items are made from quality wool and have strong stitching—and best of all, they were identical in all but color which meant there would be no fights or hurt feelings when one boy's gift was "better."_

 _For Henry, he chooses red and gray stripes, and for Roland, green and gray._

 _She can't help but pout as they wind around the children's section and spot the line of kids eager to meet Santa Claus. Robin loops his arm around her shoulders, pulling her in and kissing her temple as a he murmurs a quiet, but empathic "I know, love," as they turn away._

 _They find themselves in the women's section, and she decides to pick out a thick cardigan to keep in her office while Robin and Mal continue to browse through the rest of the section—and every time they stop to look at something, she wonders if it might be something for her._

 _She's debating between a cream colored sweater and the navy one when she hears Mal first snicker, and then before she can even turn her head, she hears Robin choke back a snort. Curiously, she wanders over, and at first she doesn't see anything particularly funny. All she sees are displays of bras and underwear, some shapewear, and stockings—yet Robin and Mal are now laughing hysterically as a young college-aged man walks away from one of the displays, something green and red tucked under his arm._

 _Mal's holding onto Robin's arm and he's leaning toward her, his head nearly touching her shoulder. Her brow furrows as she stares at the simple displays, and then looks back to them, watching as they continue laughing, turning slightly more toward each other—and then, as they do, she sees it._

 _And it's unsightly._

 _Regina's lips press together as she stares, not really sure what piece to focus on._

 _It's… an elf costume, perhaps? And though it's attempting to be a sexy elf, all she can think is that it's failing miserably and there's no way that anyone—not even Santa Claus himself—could be turned on by this._

 _The mannequin is positioned with her hand on her hip and her knee bent. On top of its head is a sort of Santa hat with red and white ribbons that hang over the shoulders. The bra is decorated with red and white stripes, assumingly to look like candy canes. Underneath the bust, there's a thick red ribbon—and she thinks that maybe, if it continued on with the red, it wouldn't be so bad._

 _After all, it's paired with red silk stockings and the little skirt is white puffy tulle separated into sections by little triangular patches of red satin… and at the tip of each patch is a little gold jingle bell._

 _It fucking has bells, the realization making her eyes go wide with judgement._

 _And somehow—quite astonishingly—that's not the worst part._

 _Beneath the bra is a kelly green corset with red satin sides and in the center of it is a much-too-big red and white sequin candy cane applique._

" _I… don't even know what to say," she murmurs, looking to them. "It's…it has fucking_ bells _attached it it. Can you imagine being in bed with someone and… jingling?"_

 _Robin grins a bit cheekily. "Maybe with the right rhythm…that could be fun?"_

 _At that, she and Mal both snicker._

" _Terrible, isn't it?" Mal says, her eyes teary as she grips Robin's arm. "I mean, can you just imagine having to put that thing on? It's just… it's…" She laughs, looking down toward the aisle, still able to see the guy that selected the outfit from the rack. "Oh, that poor boy's girlfriend."_

 _Robin snorts. "Well, I mean, good to figure out all his weird fetishes now, I guess."_

 _Regina's brow arches. "Being into elves is… quite the fetish."_

 _Mal's lips press tightly together, straining to hold back tears. "Do you think he has a Santa outfit at home?"_

 _She feels a giggle bubbling out of her as she thinks of Mal sashaying toward her wearing it, trying in vain to look sexy, the little bells jingling as her hips sway. Her giggle is quickly followed by another and then another until she's laughing, too, as she admits that that's the trouble she_ can _imagine it._

" _How could anyone be turned on by that?"_

 _Mal shakes her head, her eyes teary. "Oh… oh, but I really do wonder if there's a matching outfit for men?"_

" _Santa doesn't seem right," Robin murmurs as he considers it. "I mean, what would Mrs. Claus say?"_

 _Regina's eyes widen. "Oh. Oh, no, no. What if it's something else. Like… a candy cane costume, maybe?" Her lips tighten as she tries not to laugh. "A costume for… one particular part of him."_

 _She looks to Mal and bites down harder on her lip as they both look to Robin, who's looking back at the elf costume, and suddenly, all she can think of is what he'd look like, completely naked save a red and white striped sheath over his cock, the end curled to look like the top of a candy cane, and she bursts out laughing._

 _Turning, he looks to them, his eyes shifting between them and the ridiculous outfit. Then, after a minute or so of looking back and forth, his eyes narrowing as they continue to laugh. "Laugh all you want," he tells them playfully, but if I walked into to see either or both of you dressed like that, as goofy as it is, it'd do the trick."_

 _There's a long pause as she and Mal stare at him. He tries to hold a serious look, but it only lasts a handful of seconds—and as soon as his face cracks, they all nearly double over with laughter._

* * *

Over the past couple of weeks, there have been so many twists and turns—and tonight, she couldn't help but worry that another one was coming.

That night, they were having a New Years Eve party.

Well, calling it a party was a bit untrue.

It as a small get-together of friends and a smaller group than the one they hosted for Thanksgiving. But there was one guest attending tonight who hadn't been there for Thanksgiving—and that was Regina's father.

She'd never actually met him, but she heard Regina talk about him often.

There were two things she'd taken away from Regina's stories about him. The first was that Regina would do anything to seek his approval. Though the relationship with her mother had been strained, Regina had grown up as the apple of her father's eye _._ His opinion mattered to her and she hated to disappoint him. The other thing she'd pieced together was that he had no idea Mal existed as she did. He knew she was a friend of theirs but nothing more—not that she expected him to know, it wasn't like this was something Regina would've ever confided in him—but even with his limited understanding of her role in his daughter's life, he thought Mal's presence was "a bit much."

And from that, she'd easily deduced that he didn't like her.

Admittedly, it shouldn't bother her as much as it did; after all, since her mother's death, Regina's father spent most of his time in Puerto Rico, rather than their Connecticut home, and he visited no more than three times a year. And she was confident that even if Regina's father figured out the nature of their relationship, it wouldn't change anything between them—yet still, she found herself nervous and wanting his approval, for Regina's sake, at least.

"Hey you," Regina says, coming into the bedroom and grinning warmly. "People are starting to arrive and… you disappeared."

"I know," she replies, turning to her and smiling at her in her black lace party dress. "I just… wanted to be sure that… all traces of me were gone. You know, should anyone wander in here."

"And why would any of our guests come into our bedroom?" Regina asks, cocking her brow as she smirks. "I mean, it's not _that_ kind of party."

Mal's eyes roll. "I'd just hate for your father to get lost on his way to the bathroom and find that photo album we gave Robin for Christmas."

Regina's eyes narrow. "It'd serve him right for snooping through our bedroom."

"Still, I just… want to be sure there's… nothing incriminating around, you know? Just to be safe."

Sighing, Regina nods before crossing the room to peck her lips. "Well, Ruby and Belle just got here. They wanted to say hi, so, hurry down, okay?"

"Yeah, I just… I need a minute."

"Okay," Regina murmurs, leaning up into her toes once more to kiss her cheek. "They brought a… thing that requires the oven. Robin's still out getting ice, and…"

"Please don't touch the oven."

Smirking Regina shrugs and backs away. "If you're not down in a couple of minutes, I'm going to have to… and you and I both know that if that happens, there's a fair chance we'll be involving the fire department in our little party."

She laughs as Regina leaves, and then when she's alone, she looks around the room. There's a photo on the dresser that she tucks into the drawer—nothing terribly obvious, though a little odd—and a bottle of her perfume that could easily be explained as Regina's. One of her sweaters hangs on the back of the door, her robe in the bathroom, but just as the perfume could be easily explained away, so could those items. So, with only a hint of reluctance, she leaves them.

She makes her way downstairs just as Robin is coming in and her stomach flops when he leans in to kiss her cheek before making his way to the kitchen.

"It's only Ruby and Belle, and now me," Granny says, coming in through the front door. She grins and nods as Granny slips her arm around her, hugging her into her side. "Relax."

"I… can't."

"Why's that?" Granny asks, looking genuinely surprised. "This is your house as much as it is theirs and—"

"Well, not everyone knows that."

"Doesn't make it any less true." Granny grins and rubs her back. "Come on. I've got a ton of food in the car. Why don't you help me carry it in, hm?" Mal nods and follows her. As soon as they're out of the house, Granny looks to her. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing—" Granny's brow arches and Mal sighs. "I'm just… nervous. I have been for weeks. I've got a lot to lose if—"

"If what, honey?" Granny shakes her head, her eyes wide and empathetic, and she seems to be at a loss for words, almost as if she really couldn't imagine any situation where everything just imploded. "Listen. It's New Year's Eve, you're having a party, you're surrounded by friendly faces. Relax and have a good time." Reaching forward, she grabs her hand and gives it a tight squeeze. "Don't let worrying about one person ruin your night."

She nods. She's not sure she'll ever be able to fully relax in these sorts of situations.

"Now help me carry these."

Granny hands her two trays then grabs two for herself, and together they go inside. They join the others in the kitchen.

She makes herself a drink, gulpinging it down fast and telling herself to breathe.

John and Marian arrive next and when John leans in to kiss her cheek as he greets her, she reminds herself that if she can win him over, she can win over anyone.

She gets pulled into a conversation with Belle and Ruby, and she's thankful for the distraction, easily finding herself laughing along with them as they recount a story about a short weekend trip they took that was nothing if not a disaster.

She's so caught up in the story that she doesn't notice Regina's father arrive—but when she does notice, her stomach lurches.

She watches Regina lead him around, introducing him to everyone, and in spite of her nervousness, she can't help but grin as he holds Roland on his hip as the little boy clings to him.

And then it occurs to her that Roland might actually spill the truth.

Finally, Regina leads him over. He greets Belle warmly and then shakes Ruby's hand when Belle introduces her as her girlfriend.

Then Regina looks to her. "And you remember Mal."

He nods and smiles—not as warmly, but also not in a way that seems fake or makes her uncomfortable. He says hello and she tells him that it's nice to finally meet him. Her stomach flutters—flutters, not churns—as he agrees that it is nice to finally put a face with the name he's heard so much of over the years.

"Mal lives with us," Roland explains.

"Does she?"

Mal swallows, he looks...surprised? Maybe even amused. She's not sure and she wonders if he's the sort of person who often masks how he's feeling, the sort who always looks contrary to how he feels, giving the illusion of calm when a storm was actually brewing.

"I... haven't heard much about you over the last few years. I wondered."

Mal swallows, her heart beating a little faster—she doesn't like to talk about those years. "I'm recently widowed."

"Oh, I'm sor—"

"Don't apologize," she's quick to say, her cheeks flushing as she realizes the way that must sound. "I just mean—"

To her surprise, the old man laughs. "I felt the same when my wife died. It was… a relief."

"Exactly," she murmurs, still feeling uncomfortable. "I was quite isolated when I was married, so it's been nice to reconnect with old friends."

"Mm—"

"We've loved having her back in our lives."

He nods, his eyes narrowing slightly and then he smiles and looks from his daughter to his grandson. "And how do you like this arrangement?"

Mal holds her breath as Roland beams. "She's a really good cook."

At that, he laughs out—a deep and genuine laugh. "Well, thank goodness for that!" His eyes are soft. "That detail alone tells me you're a blessing in this house."

She smiles—her chest tightening as she looks to Regina, who gives her a quick wink, then leads her father away in search of his eldest grandson.

That went...well, she thinks. But, of course, he has limited information.

The rest of the evening goes well, and she finds herself fluttering between conversations, refilling champagne, and helping Granny who has stationed herself in the kitchen.

On more than one occasion, she's offered to take over for her so that she can enjoy the party, but Granny's refused, insisting that she was in her element in the kitchen and having a blast making fancy hors d'oeuvres.

Still, she feels guilty, so as she finishes another glass of champagne, she uses it as an excuse to visit the kitchen—and when she does, she finds that Granny isn't alone, that she has a little helper.

Henry is sitting on the counter, kicking his feet back and forth as he eats a stuffed mushroom.

"It's cheesy," Henry says, grinning.

"Good. It's supposed to be." She laughs softly. "So, tell me, why are you so concerned about your friends?"

He shrugs. "Because they're my friends." He considers it, taking another bite of the mushroom. "And I want them to like me."

"If they're your friends, they obviously do." She picks up a little cracker, topped with a fig spread. "Try this."

Henry takes the cracker and shoves the rest of his mushroom into his mouth, giving Granny a thumbs up.

Feeling a bit guilty at eavesdropping, she starts to turn away—after all, she doesn't actually need anything from the kitchen, and Granny is obviously occupied with Henry's company.

"So, this thing with Mal," Granny says as she looks to Henry. "Your only hesitation about it is what your friends would think?"

She stands rooted in place as Henry nods.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," Henry says, biting into the cracker and not seeming particularly anxious about the conversation he and Granny are having. "How often do you and your friends talk about your parents?"

His brow furrows. "What do you mean?"

"I just wonder... when your hanging out with your buddies doing whatever it is that ten year old boys do, do any of your friends mention their parents personal lives? Do they talk about their parents' interests or jobs, their friends… any of those sorts of things."

Her stomach churns again as she listens, watching from the doorway as Henry considers it.

"Not really," Henry admits. "They only know my parents are lawyers because my mom works and they asked why."

"But other than that—"

"They don't even know what kind of lawyers they are."

"And why would they?" Henry shrugs and takes another bite of the cracker. "This so good. What is it again?"

Granny grins. "Fig."

"What's that?"

"Well, most people say it's a fruit, but it's more like a flower."

Henry stops chewing, his eyes widening a little. "So, I'm eating a flower?"

Granny laughs. "You worry far too much," she tells him, leaning in and kissing his forehead. "If you like something, you like it… and if you like someone, you like someone." She shrugs. "That's all that matters."

She holds her breath as Henry nods, considering it—and then he shrugs and shoves the rest of the cracker into his mouth. "Can I have another?"

"You can have a whole plate, sweetie," Granny says. "I made about fifty and I still have a whole box of crackers and another jar of this spread."

"What am I supposed to call her?"

Her jaw tightens as Granny looks back to Henry, handing him a little serving plate. "Mal?"

"Yeah."

"Is something wrong with her name?"

"No," Henry says easily as he chooses another cracker from the plate, grinning happily down at it. "But I don't call my mom and dad by their names."

"No, I guess you don't."

"It'd be rude to call them by their real names." He shoves the cracker into his mouth, looking perplexed—or perhaps more pensive—as he chews. "I guess she's kind of like a stepmom to me and Roland."

"You could call her that."

Her throat tightens and she smiles, a rush of emotion coming over her as she turns away from the kitchen and returns to the party.

For the rest of the night, she flits around the room, playing a few rounds of cards, drinking and having conversation.

She feels much more at ease now than she did earlier—and though it could easily be explained by the alcohol she's consumed, in actuality, it has far more to do with conversation she overheard. As much as she wants the approval of Regina's father, the approval of her son means so much more, and knowing how hard Henry is working to understand and accept her place in his parents life—in his life, really—means the world to her.

She ends up in the kitchen, pouring full classes of champagne for everyone just a few minutes before midnight.

"Mal! It's almost time!" Roland calls out, rushing into the kitchen in a burst, with Henry behind him. "The guy on the radio is about to start the countdown!"

"My mom and dad are looking for you," Henry adds.

She smiles at then. "Okay, I just need to finish—"

"I'll do that," Granny says, taking the bottle. "You go."

"But—"

"It's your party. Go ring in the new year with everyone. I'll handle this." Her lips part, ready to protest, but Granny shakes her head. "I've celebrated far more of these than you. Go," she insists, shooing her away.

The boys grab each of her hands and tug her into the living room just as the countdown is stating. Their hands are quickly replaced by Robin and Regina's, and her heart flutters as the voice reaches ten... then nine... eight...

At seven Regina's hand tightens around hers.

Five, four, three...

She watches as Robin starts to lean in, ready to kiss his wife.

One!

"Happy New Year!" Roland shouts—and then, a moment later, as the first verse of Auld Lang Syne begins, their kiss breaks and they turn to her, each kissing her in a way that's more than just friendly. Regina does it first, then Robin—and as Robin pulls back, she laughs as Regina peppers Henry's face with kisses that make him squirm.

The song continues on as Roland gets his kisses and then Robin leans in again, kissing her lips as Regina kisses her cheek, making her stomach and heart flutter as she thinks that just maybe this new year will be the best yet.


End file.
